Missing Soldiers
by Ilya Snopchenko
Summary: A highly speculative (and subjective) take on what happened to Jim Raynor and Sarah Kerrigan after the events of the Legacy of the Void. Includes small amounts of offensive language and moderate amounts of suggestive (but not explicit) themes. Some violence depicted, hence the M rating.
1. Chapter 1

**MISSING SOLDIERS**

By Ilia S. and Rommel

 **Foreword**

This started as a "for fun" writeup done in the space of one evening May 3rd '2017 (on a cellphone, no less) as I was commuting back home. A few flashbacks followed and the story began expanding itself way beyond control. Originally I never intended to make it public as it was shared only between myself and my dear friend Dmitry Rommel, who has later also hopped on board and contributed significantly to the writing (particularly the Terran and Protoss arcs were his ideas that I expanded upon). The first 10 chapters were published on Mar. 29th, 2018; the last 2 chapters and epilogue were published on Oct. 23rd, 2018.

I always liked the characters of Raynor and Kerrigan, including their romance - in fact, they're among my personal top 3 fictional couples. So I made something from Jim's point of view, and what better subject – that everyone and their grandmother are speculating on, anyway – than their travels and tribulations (sort of...) after the Legacy of the Void?

References and shout-outs abound, especially in the first chapter which was originally written as a germinal piece encompassing the whole idea of this story.

All characters and the whole StarCraft are © by and property of Blizzard Entertainment. Oh, and I liked the idea of musical quotations early on so decided to implement them as appropriate. "Beyond the Veil" is by Tristania (© Morten Veland / Einar Moen). "Shadow Dance" is by Elusive (© Jan K. Barkved / Tommy Olsson / Morten Veland). "Tender Trip on Earth" and Lotus are by Tristania (© Anders Høyvik Hidle / Einar Moen / Østen Bergøy). "My Future" is by Amorphis (© Santeri Kallio / Pekka Kainulainen). "Wounded Land" is by Cornerstone (© Steen Mogensen / Doogie White). "Anno Mundi (The Vision)" is by Black Sabbath (© Tony Iommi / Tony Martin / Neil Murray / Cozy Powell / Geoff Nicholls). "Earth Imagery" is by Borknagar (© Øystein Garnes Brun). "Nightmare" is by Black Sabbath (© Tony Iommi / Geoff Nicholls / Bob Daisley). "Protection" (quoted in Chapter 9) is by Tristania (© Anders Høyvik Hidle / Ole Vistnes / Mariangela Demurtas / Østen Bergøy). "Golden Grounds" is by The Gathering (© Anneke van Giersbergen / René Rutten / Hugo Prinsen Geerligs / Frank Boeijen / Hans Rutten). "Drone" is by Alice in Chains (© Jerry Cantrell). "Spore" is by Queensyche (© Scott Rockenfield, Todd La Torre, Eddie Jackson).

 **I.**

 _Dance so frail and lost in the field afar_  
 _Cast –_  
 _Off thy mourning_  
 _Clasp –_  
 _Life and glory_  
 _Venus... through the looking glass_

 **\- TRISTANIA "Beyond the Veil"**

Jim Raynor hasn't completely got used to his new status – for which he has so far even failed to find a name. Being able to sense the flow of energies, to hear the thoughts of other creatures, to create psionic storms or warp fields with just a concentrated, but simple, mental effort. Not really requiring food, water or other fleshly needs... With that, he blushed inwardly, as "not requiring" any of the carnal functions did not mean they both could not derive pleasure from them – but he suppressed that thought quickly, chuckling to himself when he remembered their first meeting that happened aeons ago. Sarah Kerrigan did not seem to react – while he knew that she could still read his mind, and with some effort he could do likewise to her, there was a silent agreement between them that they would not be using this ability. Their mutual trust was absolute.

He did not even really need air to breathe – he still remembered the moment when Kerrigan transported them both to the remnants of a derelict space platform. Finding himself in the airless void, Raynor's first instinct was to scream in horror... but he found that while he could not scream – after all, there was no air around them – he could still survive... and comprehend. And then, do what he would do in a more hospitable environment... mostly.

"Don't you scare me like this again", he tried to say. Again, he could not make a sound – but it seemed like Sarah read his feeling, and acquiesced. A warm wave of emotional support from her blanketed Jim, and before he could say – or think – anything else, they were standing under the bluish sun of Aiur again.

After finally regaining composure, he felt the need to ask her about this experience. Were they now invincible and eternal, able to survive only by gently absorbing the energies of the universe?

"Not necessarily. Remember that even the Xel'Naga could be killed when faced with someone their equal in strength. I can imagine that a nuke would do us in – it's simply too much energy to deflect. Setting the controls for the heart of the Sun isn't a good idea either. Or... lingering too long in some cold distant space, where there's simply not enough energy to sustain us", she said. It was obvious that she was thinking about the same thing for quite some time, maybe right since she had absorbed the essence of the last true surviving Xel'Naga and slayed the evil ascendant that threatened to destroy the known Universe.

"But what are we now, darlin'... Gods?" he asked.

"I guess it's as close to that as anyone can realistically get. But we'd better get to work – eternity has a bad habit of endin' all too soon", was her reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

 _Why can't I see you?_  
 _Stand in the circle_  
 _The curse chained me_  
 _Chained me to the ground_

 _Why can't I reach you?_  
 _I'm left in the pain_  
 _And the flames_  
 _The flames surround me_

 _My voice screaming for you_  
 _Despair embracing my soul_  
 _And I'm swept away inside a wasteland_  
 _All memories are buried in dust_

 **\- ELUSIVE "Shadow Dance"**

He was not at all surprised to see her alive – having witnessed her power in action against Amon, he knew that in her new state, she would tough out almost anything. Rather, he was afraid that in her newfound divinity she might forget about him – not out of any umbrage, but because human lives would have been so vastly below her. That, or time might have flowed so differently for her that aeons might have elapsed while the aftershocks of the climactic battle would die down and she would come to her senses again. But a part of him knew that they were going to meet someday – one way or another. It was this hope that saw him through those two years without a hint of any certain knowledge. Most of that time zoomed by in a frenzy of rebuilding the Terran civilization, hastily pacifying enemies and discussing alliances, before the question weighed heavily on his shoulders again. With his immediate duties to the Dominion – or, to be precise, to the human race in general, not to any particular government – paid in full, he chose to relinquish his military position and retire back to where it all started. It was a gamble – if somebody had asked him how could he have possibly known the timing, he would not have had anything to say – but a part of him just knew better.

Naturally, Valerian Mengsk and Matt Horner were aghast. Hyperion's commander called upon all his (considerable) ability of eloquence to dissuade Jim from leaving – and, truth to be told, there was more than a grain of reason in his fiery speeches. The future of Dominion as a powerful – yet now benevolent – political entity was far from assured. Even though it enjoyed the permanent alliance of the Aiur Protoss and – wholly unheard of – the non-aggression agreement with the Zerg Swarm, the peacetime stability was far too frail, and there was no shortage of factions that had tense – so to say – relationships with the empire of Mankind. The marauding Tal'Darim, the mindless feral Zerg and, of course, the rival Terran nations that were all too inclined to interpret benevolence as a sign of weakness – and to try snatching away something without retaliation.

Infighting would have done us in sooner than the Zerg or Protoss, Raynor then thought sourly, wandering mentally to the last days of the Confederacy. With the proverbial Apocalypse looming (in the shape of the Overmind's ever multiplying horde and the merciless Protoss ships burning world after world with little regard to human life), the Terran race was still busy wiping out itself. Then, his mind skipped to something very different – the final moment of the Void expedition, the unprecedented combat camaraderie of three races. It was forever sealed in his memory – when the glow of the artificial star that Sarah summoned to burn her enemy transcended the tolerance of human vision, the assembled forces of the three races ran for their lives in a desperate attempt to escape, abandoning their makeshift bases and heavy vehicles. Protoss, Terrans and Zerg alike were climbing aboard every vessel they could find, as the shifting mists of the Void and the horrid veils that cloaked Amon's deepest sanctuary were mercilessly ripped away, and the core of the corrupted Void exploded in an untold conflagration of fire and light.

How many have been consumed by the raging otherworldly flame? No one ever knew for sure, because not only Raynor's memories of that instant were blurred. He came to his senses in the Hyperion's landing bay clutching his rifle for dear life, huddled among his deeply shocked men, haggard Protoss soldiers, Zerglings and Hydralisks that remained of the invading force. Even the normally emotionless snouts of the Zerg fighting breeds seemed to have been transformed by the experience. After all, how many lay creatures could claim to have seen the battle of the Gods... and live to tell?

The engine was humming as the giant ship was taking them away from the scene of the ultimate battle and out into normal space. With the finality of what had transpired becoming manifest, life and the officer's duty were calling him back authoritatively. With a deep sigh, he rose to his feet as those around him stirred and started to recover. He ascertained casualties: significant, but manageable to a planning commander... except that he was never truly one. Every empty place in the row of his soldiers was like a tooth torn out with no painkillers applied. Mercifully, Artanis was alive – he was found on the Spear of Adun, almost equally shocked by the experience. With some surprise he found that he was actually relieved to hear the news of Zagara and Stukov escaping as well – one in the Swarm's leviathan, the other in a Protoss craft, of all things.

Jim Raynor was alive, but a nagging feeling has settled in the back of his mind, yearning for release but not finding it just yet. Would he ever see her again?


	3. Chapter 3

**III.**

 _You can be a sunbeam, and shine for a while_  
 _You can laugh a lot, and bring out that smile_  
 _For now we're hanging in_  
 _Even though we're blessed with sin_  
 _You make my heart... You make my tired heart sing_

 _I'm on a tender trip_  
 _Slowly I'm losing grip_  
 _Madness is in the air I fear_  
 _Stay, you're my acid queen_  
 _Stay on my faded team_  
 _Run through the corridor with me_

 **\- TRISTANIA "Tender trip on Earth"**

He remembered only vaguely what happened once they stepped out of the bar on Mar Sara. Not at all surprised to see the streets of the town oddly deserted, he turned to her... and the last thing he could clearly recollect later was the sensation of her lips upon his. It was like a jolt of electricity, a sip of life-giving water on a scorching day, a fiery touch of a red hot brand, the absolute zero of the starless void all at once – and his world vanished into a swirling vortex of light. Colors, like he was falling though a kaleidoscopic tunnel, at the same time being ripped to atoms that were then sent hurtling in every imaginable direction at the speed of light... but there was no pain. In an instant, he saw the entire galaxy spinning around him, stitched through with the sparkling streams of cosmic energy. The motion of stars, the will of the winds, the flow of particles, the rhythmic breathing of the collective universal soul – it all made sense now. He felt like he was dying and being reborn all at once – and knew that the being called James Raynor has indeed passed from this world, becoming... what? To that he knew no answer. Not yet.

How much time has gone by before he became whole anew? That was one of the many questions that beheld no reply – again. These were piling up like empty cardboard boxes in his head, but somehow he felt that it was, in fact, irrelevant. When he regained a semblance of human awareness – blessedly devoid now of any signs of past wounds and age-caused weariness – he found, to his shock, that he and Kerrigan were both lying naked under a glittering dome of faintly whispering stars. She was just like he remembered her from their last night together in his quarters of the Sons of Korhal command ship, before her fateful sortie to Tarsonis – but at the same time there was an otherworldly, sacramental aura about her that made him realize the immense void that separated their old selves from the new.

He understood with sharp certainty that they had just made love. The first thought that ran through his mind – the last echo from his human days – was "Is that what sex with a goddess is like?", but then he felt that the soldier's humour like that really had no place in his new existence. Their cosmic union that stretched across the Universe and lasted aeons and moments between an atom's transition at once was something that defied description, especially one borrowed from lazy talk at the barracks. Later, when Raynor was consciously analyzing his existence, he surmised that it was through this act Kerrigan has managed to impart a portion of her hard-won power on him, making him almost – though not quite – her equal. And that was a selfless action far surpassing the sacrifice of any woman giving herself to a man.

She fluidly rose to meet his gaze, skin subtly glowing in the dark light. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped before he could make a sound, feeling that words were utterly unnecessary. What they had done now felt timelessly right to him, and he realized that his fascination and attraction to her had nothing to do with lurid teenage interest, nor with a lecher's frantic chase of new and deviant emotions meant to spice up a life that has become stale and tasteless. Now, it was a transcendent feeling, perhaps fitting well to his new state.

Kerrigan wordlessly replied with a soothing flow of warm emotion. For a long moment they stared at each other before she opened her mouth to speak physically.

"Welcome to eternity, Jimmy. I hope that you liked the welcome drink".


	4. Chapter 4

**IV.**

 _I was invited upon this shore_  
 _Where the past meets the future_  
 _So it found me_  
 _So it reached my mind_  
 _Helped me find the way_  
 _That leads to [the] right place_

 _I heard the call_  
 _I knew the form_  
 _It reached my mind_  
 _On this timeless shore_  
 _I ran no more_  
 _From what I can't escape_

 **\- AMORPHIS "My Future"**

For the longest time they felt no need for human – nor Protoss, nor Zerg – company. They had once crossed paths with a feral Zerg cluster, but even the most mindless Zerglings were cowering in fear when they entered the hive. Raynor was again wearing his trusty armor – as he explained to Kerrigan, the space platform episode compelled him to regain it, since its absence would have been distracting him from the tasks at hand when they were in a dangerous environment. She smiled knowingly – and the suit, the trademark skull visor, pistol and all, appeared beside them out of a flash of golden light.

"Is that really my old suit?" he felt the need to ask.

"Of course. I don't think I could have created one with my powers, but even if I could, since I never knew its inner workings really well, there's an off chance that some part of it might not have worked as intended. Instead, I just found where your old armor was stored – I believe that some of your fans have put it up on display in a museum dedicated to you – and teleported it here", she replied.

"Nice. Now I hope you left a note where it was, or else they're going to file a criminal case of theft", he managed to say. That, and he understood the subtle meaning of his request: he was still trying to preserve some of his human attractions and mores because he was not yet ready for transcendence. Not completely, anyway.

They paced across the creep, their feet not sinking into the spongy substance, right to the central hive. The Zerg around them were motionless and visibly shaken. There, Kerrigan gestured, and a glowing, translucent facsimile of a Psi Emitter appeared.

"I'll leave this here so Zagara and her folks can come and reclaim this errant bunch into the fold. That'll make this world a little safer", she said.

"It was sheer luck that we, and not some hapless colonists, have found this first", he replied.

With that, Raynor thought of how his service to the Dominion had ended – and the Zerg played a role in that as well. In fact, he felt that he has severed all his ties to the past when he handed his resignation to Valerian, trying to avoid the Emperor's reproachful gaze. There was more than one reason to do this – to say that Jim has enjoyed universal love and adulation in the Dominion would have been a "slight" overstatement. For years he was the empire's most wanted man, and even though it could be partly attributed to propaganda, it was only a part of the explanation. He and his men have killed Dominion soldiers that would have been their compatriots now. Moreover, many people remembered that the Raiders were among the Zerg Swarm's invasion force that carved a bloody path through the Dominion's defenders in order to overthrow Arcturus Mengsk. That was not the first time when he fought alongside the Zerg – the first shocking instance was battling the UED on the same soil of Korhal years before, though that contact was not nearly as close or as intense – but he still felt remorse and guilt because he had silently condoned the killing, and some of their more macabre practices, like controlling the Dominion troops through the use of a neural parasite. He never found the courage – nor the time, actually – to ask Kerrigan what would have become of these hapless men and women. A better fate than to be killed in the heat of combat? Perhaps, but he never knew the ultimate outcome, and this was one of the reasons that he was glad to have left the Dominion. They would do just fine without him now.

More than once he returned in his thoughts to his past life's tail end. What would have happened if Kerrigan hadn't appeared in the doorway that fateful day, a golden vision of the future? He would've probably drunk himself to death in the end, or stumbled out in alcoholic stupor and fallen into a deep mine shaft, down to his demise. Whether her appearance – and everything that followed – was real, or actually a hallucination of a poisoned, dying mind... he tried not to give this thought any life expectancy. His comfort was in the notion that there was no way he could have imagined all the universal wonders that she has shown him, so it could not have been the work of his fantasy. It did not matter, either way.

But in fact, there was one instance when he felt compelled to return to those he left behind, and intervene – so he asked Sarah about it.

"Do you think we need to help them against this insurgency? These... Defenders of Man?"

"No. I've checked the probabilities, and they're going to handle it. This... Nova (a hint of vexation and – dare he say that? – feminine jealousy has edged into her voice) is likely to get this sorted out. You can see it for yourself".

He knew that she was right, so he sighed and nodded, but then closed his eyes and focused his will into a sharp, invisible needle. Slowly and carefully this shining point of light pierced the borders of reality and edged through the strands of time to the near future. And when he pulled it back, images flowed forth like liquid from a punctured water sack. He saw Valerian triumphant (if barely), and with a little difficulty – Kerrigan had taught him to do this, but he could not grasp it all at once – made some quick calculations of the probability. 85 percent was not bad. But there were still the other 15... and the shining 85 still had to be paid for in warm, red human blood.

Kerrigan's hand descended on his shoulder, offering him – like she always has – comfort and reassurance.

"This is not our battle, Jimmy. We have our own mission now".

Oh, and what a mission it was. When Kerrigan told him that she has started to bring life back to the worlds destroyed in the wars that had ravaged this sector, he was elated. After having lost so much himself and witnessing so much devastation around him, his heart yearned to see as much of that fixed as possible.

"Maybe we should set up an office in Korhal City, with a big flashy sign – "Cosmic Forester Guild", he joked. She feigned resentment by wrapping him in a rainbow sheet of ozone-smelling energy, then nullified it and laughed heartily.

"Nope, there is a reason we need to be acting discreetly. Though that doesn't mean I haven't left some hints for those who might want to follow our lead through... slightly more mundane means. Like Zagara", she said.

"Zagara? I guess a Zerg's idea of a thriving eco system might be... a little different to everyone else's. I mean, rivers of creep and spires for trees may be acquired taste", he replied. She crossed her arms in mock indignation and remained still until he rolled his eyes and spoke again.

"All right. I see you have a good plan for this. How could I ever doubt that".

She had spoken of their mission a few times since they started their new life, but for a while they were understandably preoccupied with each other, being fed up with years of separation, frustration and anguish. Their "honeymoon" wasn't entirely recreational though – all the while she was teaching him to use his new power. For instance, she told him that it wasn't her who healed him of a bunch of old sores once he had started to ascend – it was his own subconscious effort that worked.

"You always had a gift, even though it wasn't really apparent to the outsiders. But some of your abilities were directly responsible for getting you through everything that has been thrown at you", she elaborated.

He nodded, becoming a little sadder instantly. He remembered those who started out the same as him, but never made it and barely remained a footnote in the history of the sector. All of his comrades in arms from the Guild Wars, the First Great War and beyond. He was always thinking of himself as incredibly lucky – avoiding (sometimes very, very narrowly) every peril that the Universe saw fit to throw at him, but how much of it was courtesy of his hard-learned mundane skills, and how much could be ascribed to his hitherto unknown abilities?

Then his thoughts skipped back to the First Great War. A silvery strand that appeared between them the first time they shared a physical bond, that night of discovery and wonder laid against the backdrop of cold, unyielding space. Then, Char and how this link, now searing like molten lava, fed him horrendous images of both past, present and possible (or impossible) future. Was that what had awakened his ever dormant psionic abilities, he thought, because there was no way a blind man could have seen a firestorm of raging colour he was thrown into, much less find a way through the death maze? And then, when the Queen of Blades had found that she was involuntarily giving away intelligence, she forcibly snapped that psychic umbilical cord, causing Jim to collapse in midstride, his mind writhing and shrieking in pain. He descended into a boiling ocean of tormenting visions that only abated when Tassadar extended a helping hand to extricate him from the sea of nightmares.

Jim winced and forcibly told himself to ignore this line of thought for now. Instead, he started processing what she had said.

"Say… can we restore Shakuras? I kind of liked this world, even though I never stayed there for long, but hearing of its destruction was still heartbreaking. Besides, I liked these blue landscapes – kind of fits with the melancholic mindset, you know – and the flying critters were hilarious", he said.

"I'm afraid that restoring a planet that has been literally blown apart, and so long ago, is beyond even our combined powers. But we can both... pick up some of the pieces, and instill some of its imagery on some other dead world worth resurrecting. And the flying things... I'm pretty sure there are fossils and DNA samples left that we can use".

Sensing his lingering hesitation – and a deeper well of thought beyond it – she added: "Please understand... some candles are destined to burn".


	5. Chapter 5

**V.**

 _Lost for a thousand years_  
 _Lost in the Valley of Tears_  
 _Lost but we learned to survive_  
 _Now we rise to take and heal this Wounded Land_

 **\- CORNERSTONE "Wounded Land"**

Raynor and Kerrigan were standing on a tall cliff overlooking a vast plain. What they were seeing did not look good at all.

The way they were doing this scanning was also rather... unorthodox. Jim was holding his right palm over his eyes, scouring the terrain with his inner sight – it worked better than any strong binoculars would, especially since the vista before them was vaguely veiled in haze. Sarah was holding her hand over his – that allowed her to see everything he was seeing.

The landscape was a broken and scarred desert, half rock and half gravel, generously peppered with what looked conspicuously like impact craters. This world was badly damaged during the battles between the Dominion and whichever branch of the Zerg Swarm; while it was not completely glassed, repeated use of nuclear weapons by the Terran side in their attempts to dislodge the Zerg has inflicted grievous wounds on the ecosystem. The Zerg themselves did it no favours either.

"There! Looks like some of the local critters have made it through", Raynor announced, pointing his other hand towards what looked a small swamp a few hundred meters away. Indeed, a small bunch of animals was residing near the patch of unpleasant-looking water. They looked vaguely like generic Rhynadons at first, but much leaner and somewhat mutated.

"Doesn't look like they're too happy to have survived", Kerrigan replied. "But since we're going to resuscitate this world, we might as well start with these critters. If you ask me, they're not looking normal".

"Yeah. I would've said "in a bad Sci-Fi way", but I've seen the Zerg. Probably racked up mutations from all the radiation. You know, if I had been my old self, you wouldn't have made me lift the visor even for a kiss – this place is crackling with the Greek alphabet!", Raynor said.

Instead of looking for a path to descend, they took each other's hands and glided down the cliff wall majestically, and towards the strange creatures. When they were about a dozen meters away from the animals, they were discovered. Five pairs of faintly glowing eyes looked at the couple warily... and with an expression that neither of the newcomers liked.

"Come on... we need to reform them before the Zerg come to claim them for a new Superduperlisk. It looks like Abathur would be all over these things", Jim said.

Sarah nodded and made a few more steps towards the creatures. "I need to establish contact first. To see if they can be helped, and if so, what they might want", she announced, and then closed her eyes, flexed her hands and stopped as if in trance. Jim watched her with some trepidation.

"You be careful around these pooches", he said, but she didn't seem to hear.

The whole chain of events that followed probably took no more than a few seconds of real time.

Just then, the closest creature probably decided that an off chance to sate its hunger was more important than the vague sense of threat the humans exuded. It lunged for Kerrigan, who was unarmored and unarmed, and stood a good three meters closer to boot. Time slowed to a crawl for Jim: while he was wearing armor, he was no longer equipped with a Gauss Rifle – it was just not necessary for him. Instead, he was carrying his old pistol that came back with the suit (more as a memento or a token for feeling armed than as a real weapon), but it was in a holster on his belt, and the safety was on as he did not see the need to use a weapon coming. To make the matters worse, Kerrigan would've been in the line of fire – he could not risk it, even though he did not know if a hit from small arms would have harmed her severely or not at all. He could not risk this, period.

Instead of trying to grab his weapon after all, or to push Kerrigan out of harm's way, he did the first inane thing that sprang to his mind. He lifted his left arm, pointing it at his attacker, and yelled "Freeze!" just like he did when he was a Marshall and had to arrest a bunch of petty criminals. A split second later his gauntlet became engulfed in angry red glow, and then emitted a sphere of fiery light in the same colour. It rose in an accurate parabolic arc, neatly avoiding Kerrigan – who was still seemingly entranced – but instead of hitting the attacker, it descended behind the spot where the creature was in that instant.

The end result was, once again, unexpected. After the impact, when time jerked and restarted at normal speed for Raynor, all five creatures were stunned right where they were, the closest one frozen in an awkward half-jump. Visible tendrils of crimson light were loosely enveloping each of them, pinning them to the ground (or, as it would happen for a couple of them remaining in the water, to the bottom of the bog).

Kerrigan opened her eyes, glanced at the creatures, then at Raynor. A cheerful smile appeared on her lips.

"Jimmy, you're a fast learner... This is a very good, clean instance of Maelstrom, just like the Dark Archons do it", she observed.

"I... I just wanted the damn thing to freeze. You better be careful next time you come up to something like this", he sighed.

"Right, you wanted to stop it and so you did it, but you went a little bit too far. Don't worry, it'll come with the experience. The Protoss would've been proud of you", was her reply.

"Say... since we are what we are now, is it possible for us to create a... Dark Archon if we have to?", he asked for some reason.

"Never thought of this. In theory, it's possible, but I still vastly prefer the other methods of... becoming one", she smirked.

It was Raynor's turn to become beet red. Even demigods can be knocked off balance – especially those that try to remain as human as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI.**

 _Can you see me, are you near me_  
 _Can you hear me crying out for life?_  
 _Can you tell me, where's the glory?_  
 _Ride the days and sail the nights_  
 _When it's over you'll find the answer_  
 _Running in the whispering rain_  
 _Anno mundi? Can you wonder?_  
 _Truth or thunder, life or blame_

 **\- BLACK SABBATH "Anno Mundi (The Vision)"**

For a couple of minutes Raynor has been studying his handiwork. He got only a very faint psychic response from the creatures, but it was a relief to find them alive. The least of his wishes now was to destroy a living being without an absolutely compelling reason. He found that the spell (for a lack of a better word) was very slowly dissipating, but per his calculations, it would not have worn off completely until a couple of hours had passed, and even then those on the receiving end would not have been fit for anything resembling combat for at least as long. Quite different from what the Dark Archons did (he thanked fate for the fact that he never had to fight one), but then again, he was in fear for Kerrigan and probably way overdid it. He found that by pulling back and recycling some of the power he unwittingly put into the casting, he could weaken the effect. The creatures slowly began to recover.

"Actually, I don't think this guy would've harmed me either way – I have a good emergency shield up that would protect me decently against low-level attacks. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate your effort", Kerrigan noted.

"I shoulda known. But have you reached out to these things?" Raynor asked.

"Yeah, before you knocked them all out cold. There is nothing innately corrupt about them, no taint from the outside, like Zerg. They're just a bunch of critters that found themselves in a wrong place at a wrong time". Her face saddened at these words. The same (minus the "critters" part) could have been said about a good chunk of the sector.

"So what are you going to do with them?"

"I'm going to pacify them, and make sure the mutations scale back. They haven't been this way for long, probably just a generation or two, and the genes are not FUBAR, so to say. And since they're only a part of a larger population, I'll make the dispel spread to those other specimens whenever they interact", Kerrigan said.

She came up to the closest creature – which was the one that had tried to attack her earlier. The beast, now semi-conscious, tried to edge away, and Jim could've sworn that its glowing red eye took on an expression of hopeless despair.

"Can you remove the Maelstrom now? This thing's not going to harm me now", she asked.

"Well... Your call", Jim shrugged and granted her request.

Weird thing was, he could not explain most of the stuff he was doing. Some of his powers were invoked through sheer efforts of will, some – as he had affirmed just minutes earlier – required a trigger, verbal or otherwise. If he had not expressed his intent (actually to himself, of course, not to his adversary) when lashing out a bolt of energy, he really couldn't have been sure of the result. For all he knew, he might've blown the beast into chunks – and immediately come to regret it sorely.

Unbinding the creatures and absorbing back some of the energy expended was like taking back a part of himself that had been separated for a while. Getting back some of the shed hair and expecting them to root and grow again would've been a ridiculous notion, but it was the only fair comparison he could make (nevermind that "hair" was a living, mutable power in this case). So he gently called back what was really a part of him – and after a split second the tendrils of energy left their victims, slipping back to Raynor and becoming more ethereal as they moved. They resorbed right through the joints of his combat gauntlet (Jim had the time to wonder if it would be wise to get the armor somehow checked later), and for a moment he felt a tingling sensation in his hand, followed by the pleasant feeling of being whole again.

Kerrigan put her gloved palm on the head of her erstwhile adversary, as though she was trying to calm down a cat. Raynor winced at seeing her fingers gently petting the animal's sickly-looking skin covered in rough hair, with quite a few scabs and warts for a good measure. After a few strokes she turned her face down to the critter and... began to sing.

It was neither English, nor any other Terran language Jim knew of, nor even the Khalani. But to Raynor's ears, it sounded like music of peace, tranquility and renewal. He was so carried away that he almost missed the fact that her hand still residing on the creature's head started to glow in unison to the melody's ebb and flow.

He could not say for sure how long it lasted, but it could not have been more than a few minutes. When it was over and the spell slowly dissipated, he was surprised to see the rest of the creatures sitting neatly in a semi-circle around them, like circus animals. Their eyes were fixed intently on Sarah.

"Looks like you got us some new friends, darling. What if they decide to follow us home?" Raynor asked.

"They're not supposed to, since I've instructed the first to go out and spread the cure, and I'll do likewise to the others", she explained.

"Nice. But are you sure they're not going to be mauled by their more savage kin?"

"Fair enough, but I also made sure they're more attractive as mates than the mutated ones. Just a failsafe in case the cure in itself doesn't work well enough on some specimens. You know, sex appeal isn't only in muscles and brash behaviour", she giggled, and then reached up to plant a light kiss on his lips.

She proceeded to heal the other four creatures – again by putting her hand on each one's head, even though she didn't sing anymore. They've all heard the song that pacified them, she explained, and a touch was required to instill them with energy necessary to undo some of the most acute physical effects, and to make them able to transmit the cure further.

"I've seen the contagious diseases, but it's the first time I hear of a vaccine that is transmitted like this", he joked. "Say... What was that language you were using?"

"Truth to be told, I have no idea. I just happened to... Use this when I was not quite sure what to do with them. You're not the only one here who is pretty new to all of this, and acting on intuition. But since this came to me after I got the essence of Ouros, I can be pretty sure it's THEIR language".

When all was done, the creatures sped off in seemingly random directions. Of course, it would have been naive to expect their mutations to disappear, but Raynor could've sworn that they were even moving differently now.

That, however, did not solve the problem of the world as a whole – while survivable, it was quite a miserable place all the same. Both Raynor and Kerrigan understood this, and knew that something had to be done quickly and decisively. Luckily, Kerrigan knew that it was possible – and Raynor's presence made it easier, she said.

"Why?" he asked her bluntly. "When you... uplifted me, you spent a share of your power. I am... (he gulped nervously and paused) I am your creation, without you I'm nothing".

She was aghast.

"Not at all! What power I expended is much less significant than the fact that you are now, for all intents and purposes, the same as me. Maybe weaker and with two years less experience – that's true enough – but you are not merely using the power put into you, because you are, like me, subsisting on the energy you extract from the world around you. That was a start, and everything else is derived from this. It's like... A mother can give birth to a child, but once out of her womb, he is no longer linked to her the same way, can feed and have a life on his own", she explained patiently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Though I'd rather not think of you as mother, because... Well..." he grinned.

"I get the drift, cowboy. No need to elaborate".

"One more question though. Ouros said that only you, in your Primal form, were fit to receive that essence. How come you passed it on to me, and I wasn't blown up by it like a toad inflated through a straw?", he wondered.

"I gotta love that metaphor. You see, what he passed to me was raw, and I filtered it through my very substance... which was, at that time, a very tough and convoluted mesh – or should I say "a mess" – of Terran, regular Zerg and Primal Zerg. The essence I gave you during our... wedding night was sort of... distilled. Adapted for human consumption, since the first thing the essence transfer did to me was getting the Zerg part of me removed for good. I did not need, nor want, it anymore", she elaborated.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII.**

 _Amongst the elements, I surrender on eternity's behalf_  
 _The soil on which I walk, the air in which I talk_  
 _The drop I swallowed, the fire I followed_  
 _\- is the circling direction of time, the vague line of existence_

 _The earth defines my synergy, the mountain refines my energy_  
 _The fire clouds my distant view, the flame erupts my fiery due_  
 _To Mother Earth_

 **\- BORKNAGAR "Earth Imagery"**

Sarah explained to him that each time she healed a world, she was spending some time collecting the essences of its former inhabitants (or current, but warped, ones – just like the creatures they had encountered earlier). Mixing it with the samples from her "library" (she was struggling to find a better word) – or resorting to the latter entirely if she could not find a trace of any native lifeforms, as had happened to her once – she was then spreading the seeds of life across the lands and waters. Most of the time, though, there was an added step of "fixing" the conditions somehow, and there was only so much she could do to that end. Jim immediately remembered Typhon XI – the planet which was burned by the sharp increase of activity from its unstable star during the Second Great War. Kerrigan concurred that this would have been a lost cause – but most scars of all the recent conflicts between the three species could have, and should have, been healed.

"You just need to tell me what to do. At times I'm feelin' like I'm just standing idle while you're working, and I'm not too happy about that", he said.

"Don't you worry now, Jimmy. We have a big fish to unfry, if you pardon the pun, and I'm sure you're up to this task", she assured him.

She continued explaining the process, sometimes losing the ability to describe it with words and using telepathic language – literally lobbing chunks of information at him – instead. He was, too, struggling to grasp it at times, because the concept was so far removed from anything the humans were doing. For example, Korhal was fully terraformed after the devastating nuclear bombardments by the Confederacy, but the engineers had to painstakingly decontaminate it swath by swath, and the process took years. Kerrigan's method (thus the one of the Xel'Naga) was very different, and wholly inaccessible to the Terrans as it stemmed from manipulation of matter and energy. The Protoss would've understood this notion better, but even their technology was still not quite up to this task.

They had to find the energy nexus of the planet – like the one that housed the Xel'Naga Temple on Shakuras – and use it to draw the "taint", as Sarah called it, from the entirety of the celestial body, concentrating it into a finite volume of matter that they would place within a forcefield and remove from the surface, instead sending it towards the planet's star so that it would decompose and burn in its flame. Raynor had a hard time wrapping his head around this idea, because while it sounded so very attractive, he found it violating a few principles of physics, including the Second law of thermodynamics.

"But if you say that it's working... then baby, let's you and me break some rules of the Universe tonight!" he exclaimed. "Lead the way".

The energy nexus of this planet was nondescript – no telltale terrain features, no edifices to mark it, just a small lake of stale water that happened to cover almost all of its location. But both Raynor and Kerrigan felt it unmistakably – like heat from a source of inflammation concealed beneath the otherwise healthy skin. Heat and...

"It's in pain", Jim remarked with a hint of surprise.

Indeed, it seemed to them now that the planet was trembling like a wounded animal and pulsating erratically, sending out waves of distress to anyone who might be attuned to these vibrations. Raynor shuddered to think of what Shakuras might have felt in its final moments – being a planet inhabited for a long time by a race of advanced psionics, it must have absorbed quite a bit of psychic power, probably even becoming self-aware to a degree... before being killed off. Jim knew the story from Artanis, but what looked like wartime necessity back then, did not sit well with him at all now. His earlier remark aside, he made a mental notice to himself to visit the remnants of the erstwhile Dark Templar homeworld in order to salvage something still remaining there.

Once again, Kerrigan pulled him out of his reverie.

"Jim, listen. We need to form a ring, and then I will commence the process of cleansing. Whatever happens once I start holding your hand, do not pull away. It may hurt a bit – in fact, I'm pretty sure it will – but we need to get through this", she said, her face solemn and determined.

By now Raynor had understood this concept, even though it seemed like something out of a magic fantasy novel to him. Psionics could pool their powers by creating a "ring" – like a network of electric sources connected in parallel to increase the amperage. Two beings as powerful as the former Mar Sara Marshall and Ghost were already enough to make use of this strategy. Jim couldn't help chuckling at the thought; Sarah cocked an eyebrow in silent enquiry.

"It's just ironic that not long ago we believed that we're livin' in a rational, orderly world, but what we're doin' now is just blatant... magic, for the lack of a better word", he explained.

"Magic is just a technology you're not understanding... yet. Before you made friends with the Protoss, I bet the Psionic Storm would look like something out of Dungeons & Dragons to you. And now, you can create one yourself if you so wish", she responded with a smirk.

Jim nodded, bracing himself for a new and unknown ordeal. Sarah felt his acquiescence and started her own preparations. A small vortex of power appeared before her, and she stuck her right arm inside as though looking for something in a tree hollow. After a few seconds she fished out a small, faintly glowing Khaydarin crystal, then removed the portal.

Sarah waded into the shallow water, ankle-deep, and beckoned Jim to follow her. She extended her left hand, and Jim took her fingers firmly in his. Then, with a sharp exhalation that seemed like a battlecry, she bent down to jab the crystal into the bottom of the lake. Jim held her palm tightly, and then the world around him started to change, flooded with visions. He saw the planet's early days, accretion gradually forming a spheroid of dust and rocks, then the first vestiges of life, then skipping right to the days of the Great War. He winced as he felt the Zerg descending on the planet, each source of their infestation like a syringe of poison jabbed unceremoniously by the executioner's hand into the veins of a living creature. He nearly screamed as he saw and sensed the first nuclear missile descend onto a Zerg hive, burning and cauterizing the source of infection but leaving a huge searing wound in its place. Then, it repeated manifold, and only through a huge effort of will Raynor was able to maintain his composure.

"Hold on, Jim, I've only just begun. I'm sorry you have to go through this-", he heard Kerrigan say in his mind.

"Don't be sorry, I can't let you take all of this by yourself, never again", he replied through gritted teeth.

"I knew I could count on you. Now hold the crystal", she commanded.

Jim knelt and his left hand touched the water, then clasped Kerrigan's glove clutched around the crystal. He felt the pull of force as Kerrigan began the ritual. She was humming something that Raynor could not understand, and gradually Raynor felt like the world around them began to spin – slowly at first, then faster and faster. Or was it really holding still, and it was they who were whirling like a drill about to perforate a sore tooth, ultimately bringing a blessed end to years of chronic pain – but not before inflicting quite some pain of its own? Jim had heard that before precision laser surgery had set in, toothache was being treated in this way – it was unthinkable to him but at least he had a mundane comparison on hand to help wrap his mind around the grandiose, otherworldly things that he and Kerrigan were now doing.

And then, the drill has reached the end of its journey. The world distorted around Raynor – though again, he was not really sure if it was the surrounding reality that warped and buckled, or his own self and with it, perception of the surroundings – forming a giant grey vortex encapsulating the few recognizable details of scenery. A new association formed in Jim's mind: once he saw the great tunnel boring machine that was not only drilling through soil and rock, but at the same time forming the concrete walls of the future underground passage. In an instant, he and Kerrigan turned from the whirling auger into the tube ready to receive... what?

In the following instant, Raynor felt that firsthand. His hand still clutched around Kerrigan's palm holding the crystal exploded with freezing pain, as though immersed in liquid nitrogen. His first impulse was to loose his grip – and even more than that, to violently shake away the killing cold – but his will kept him in check. Breaking the active ring would be bad not only (and not as much) for himself, he knew, but first and foremost for Kerrigan as the one who initiated the link, and, by extension, to that which was on the receiving end of their spell – the planet. He clenched his teeth and persevered, feeling his arm gradually going numb from his palm upwards, towards the shoulder. It was as though they really did absorb and filter the taint that blighted the planet through themselves, and, dire as his own state was, he could not help feeling intense sympathy towards Kerrigan who, before Raynor had come onboard for this mission, was enduring the same – or worse – all by herself.

However, the torment was not to become endless. Jim could not say exactly how much time had gone by, his own supernatural senses clouded by pain and tension, but in the end he felt the stream of freezing poison abate. He focused his vision as best he could and saw a large, faintly glowing sphere of energy condensing next to them, deducing that it was the result of their efforts. He tried to probe it with his senses but quickly pulled back because it was intensely charged with negative energy. Just then, Kerrigan opened her bloodshot eyes and exhaled hoarsely; Jim noticed that her face looked weary and much older than usual, lines and wrinkles abnormally tracing it and giving her the appearance of a woman twice her usual (if simulated) age.

"You can let go of me now", she rasped, and Jim promptly released both her hands and the crystal. He rose to her feet and, after a split second of hesitation, planted a hand on her cheek in a tender gesture, thanking himself for getting out of his armor before the process had started.

"I'll be fine. Now you probably see why we can't do this on an industrial scale – we need to rest and regain our energy between the takes, and that's why I feel that our mission is going to take quite a while", she explained.

"So... is it time for some R&R after we're done here?" he asked, in as playful a voice as he could muster.

"Yes, but we haven't finished just yet. Now that the house is clean, it's time to take out the trash and then we'll need to get the happy farm thing going", Kerrigan replied.

The sphere of charged energy was, again, painful to handle, but the barrier around it – formed through a manifestation of their will – was mostly holding off the harmful effect. Jim knew that had they decided to leave this ball of evil, as he nicknamed it, unattended, it would have likely exploded, spewing radiation and chemical poisoning around. After Sarah managed to regain her composure, and Jim donned back his armor, they carefully lifted their dubious prize, ascending with it through the atmosphere until the edge of space.

"I can see my hive from here", Jim quipped as he glanced back down to the planet's surface. His augmented vision clearly showed him the energy nexus – no longer throbbing erratically, but beating slowly and steadily like the heart of a sleeping man. Even the color perception has changed – from the frantic rippling of red and orange to a less disturbing (and less chaotic) yellow and greenish. Not quite the healthy green and blue, he understood, but a lot closer. He heard Kerrigan chuckle – mentally, of course, as they were now in airless space where the sound would not be travelling so easily – and then she commanded "Throw it!"

Like two pygmies handling a huge bowling ball, they sent the sphere hurtling away from the planet and in the general direction of the system's star. Raynor knew what was going to happen from Kerrigan's explanation, but witnessing it firsthand was another matter entirely.

"What happens if it falls apart before it reaches the sun?", he asked.

"Even if it does, it's just going to disperse. Space is vast anyway. But I have confidence in my abilities", she replied.

... Strangely enough, seeding the planet with life turned out the easiest thing to do. When they returned to the atmosphere – but not quite to the surface – some time later, Jim saw Kerrigan open a portal in mid-flight. But instead of fishing out some tool of her trade again (actually, Raynor was so very curious to take a peek inside her secret stash, wherever it might have resided, but decided to ask about this later), she gestured In the air, and a glowing greenish-golden aura surrounded her. Jim could've sworn that he could make out the shapes of leaves, grass and feathers in the radiance – and if he was getting the idea behind this right, it should have been fitting – but he was not entirely sure it wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him. Instead of trying to activate his own cognitive abilities, he kept looking at Kerrigan – bathed in this glow the color of life itself, now she looked even more beautiful than ever, a true goddess of Spring and rebirth. His adulation was a primal, spiritual one, devoid of the frequent sexual undertone (which neither of them really objected to, anyway, but it seemed really irrelevant now). If the creatures like her had ever walked the soil of old Earth back in the day, he thought, then the ancestors of Man really had an excuse for falling into the snare of religion – something that he had never understood. Not until he knew that the Gods really did exist... and their divinity was not (not entirely, anyway) about just being psionically super-amped.

She was very much aware of the effect she was having on him. Smiling graciously, she extended her hand to touch Raynor's armor gauntlet, and the radiance flowed forth from her hand. Jim was struck speechless when he felt it surround him, engulf him, permeate his whole being. He looked at his hand and saw it glowing in the same golden green color, but even if he had not seen this, he had no need to do it – he could sense the energy of life filling him to the brim. But he could not and would not absorb it for himself – he clearly understood that it was not intended for his, or her, use. In an instant, he realized what he had to do. He did a barrel roll in mid-air before extending his arms into a cross shape and launching himself into flight.

He did not see, but rather felt, that the energy was cascading off of him in waves, descending to the barren soil of this nameless world and saturating it like life-giving water – and with this energy came the spores and seeds of new life. "It's a bird! It's a dropship! It's me!" he yelled loudly, feeling ready to go into a fit of sincere, unconstrained laughter. Another distant, nigh-forgotten memory sprang into his mind – being born on a farming world, in his childhood he was often admiring the small, nimble agricultural aircraft that were flying around on sunny days, dispersing seeds or chemicals across the fields of Shiloh. And now, he was one himself, doing his job for this planet like he would probably be doing for many others in his new life. Concluding one of his childhood gestalts now was a powerful feeling that kicked his sense of elation into overdrive, and he let his joy fly unrestrained. His laughter rolled across the lands as he flew like a comet, knowing that Kerrigan was doing the same thing somewhere else. If there had been any sentient beings on this world to witness this, they would have surely called it a miracle and an epiphany. But there was no one who could see him – and tell about this.

When everything was done they met again on a nondescript hill. For a long time they sat back to back, staring into the sky now miraculously cleared of the haze, breathing the newly clean air. And when Raynor looked back to the surface, he was astonished to find that the first feeble sprouts have emerged from the softened soil, like in a time-lapse movie. He closed his eyes and activated his psychic senses – and indeed, the blackness was permeated with tiny, flickering green lights, the signatures of new life.

"We... We've done it!" he rasped, still not entirely believing this.

"Oh yes we did, Jimmy. It's going to be smoother the next time around- what?"

"I was thinking... if only there was a way to bring back at least some of those who died? Is there no way to do that?", Jim asked.

He immediately came to regret saying this – already fearing both the answer and the effect this subject would have had on her. He was actually reminding her of the millions of victims she herself had inflicted on the sector. Kerrigan's face saddened at once, as she lowered her head in contemplation.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-", he stammered.

"It's not your fault. If someone thought that I would forget everything I did to this unfortunate sector, that someone would've been damn wrong. Never, not for a single moment I can forget about all that ocean of blood on my hands. Just as I told you, Artanis and Ouros back then, during the war... I'm hoping for penance for my sins. So my eternal vigil – the one that I dragged you into – is my only chance at redemption, not a reward", she sighed.

"I didn't mean to rub that in your face, Sarah. Besides, you were not responsible for that-", Raynor began to say.

"I know you didn't. But the whole "I wasn't myself" line of defense, while reassuring on the outside, wouldn't have floated in a court of Terran law, would it? Nor it does in the universal sense, Jimmy. But... I believe I have found an "extenuating circumstance", if we're going to be using the legal lingo".

"Just what do you mean?"

For half a minute, she was lost in thought, again trying to find a suitable locution for something far removed from Terran understanding.

"A lot of those who died had their spiritual essence... linger around. Like ghosts, you know – this is an honest principle, that's why Zeratul was not surprised to see what he thought was Tassadar. I have found a way... to bind these essences to the living once again. Think of it as reincarnation: on a few resettled Terran worlds, I attempted to subtly influence their new inhabitants to... increase their rate of procreation", she explained.

"What? Did you... make them extra horny to enhance the birth rate?" Jim gasped, bursting into laughter despite the grave undertones their conversation was taking on.

"You could say that. Then, some of their "surplus" offspring would effectively be bound with those souls – let's put it that way. Make no mistake about this, they wouldn't be displacing the normal souls, and... It's not like the reincarnated are going to have entirely the same memories or personality, but... this was really the only thing I could do for them. Those who had already passed and absorbed with the universal soul, well...", she sighed.

And then he heard her chuckle before she said, "And since we've inevitably drifted to our favourite topic... now I believe you said something about some R&R".

The world around them went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII.**

 _It's a dream within a dream_  
 _Lost and lonely_  
 _Don't get pulled by the devil's hand_

 **\- BLACK SABBATH "Nightmare"**

Strangely enough, while both of them could be considered the people of action in the outside life, once they were left to each other, neither of them ever wanted to hurry. There was no rush in their ministrations – neither this time, nor even the first time they shared in physical intimacy. Jim even had no idea where they were now – it was like the ground has turned into pitch black soft velvet, a giant bed the size of a star system, there to envelop them and shelter them from the eyes of the world. Of course, no one could have seen them, let alone intruded on their private moment, even though above them Jim saw the boundless expanse of starry sky. The constellations were seen clearly, as though they were in space... but from what he has already learned about Kerrigan and their new state, they could very well be.

The stars were faintly whispering as he turned back to Kerrigan, who was watching him with slightly amused look on her face. Her eyes were faintly glinting with reflected starlight as Raynor slowly closed the distance separating them, and their lips met – tentatively at first, then with more and more force. It was not their first kiss – not even the first since their "reunion", and not the first they shared with Raynor being fully aware of that – but it still felt special to him. He hoped that he would not lose that feeling of freshness...

They took their time to explore each other, as though they were a couple of virginal lovers, and it dawned upon Jim that in the moments like this the feeling of time having passed them by was the strongest. For what seemed like ages they were only kissing and fondling each other, gradually becoming more and more agitated – but even this sensation was not quite like the past human experiences that Jim remembered. Of course, he was never really into the carnal pleasures just for the sake of it, but now it was like the whole thrill of it has acquired an extra dimension, beyond the physical or even the sensual. Part of it could have been attributed to their telepathic bond, of course, but Jim could never shake off the feeling that their union had a cosmic resonance... and a benevolent one, too.

He did not seem to notice when his clothes – and hers, for that matter – vanished. These seemed now to be more a part of their supernatural selves than stitched sheets of textile and polymers, covering their modesty when needed – more out of habit than of any necessity, as they never came within sight of any other Terran since their transfiguration – but never getting in the way when that was not necessary. Jim once again took a mental snapshot of her beauty and then, as has become their habit, descended on his knees before her, slowly caressing – and savoring – her breasts, then her taut athletic stomach, then...

How much of this – of them – was even real? To him, she appeared the same as in their brief time together before her unfortunate downfall. He remembered her slender frame, tender skin belaying strong muscles, the gentle curve of her hips. Now, after several rounds of violent mutations enforced on her, how could she have recreated her old shape and self so perfectly, Jim thought. Then again, to what degree he was himself – in flesh, not only in mind? On one hand, he was pretty sure of that, but at the same time he felt the void that separated his past life from the present. While he appeared to himself just like the same old Jim Raynor – minus a few age-related changes that he was seemingly able to reverse – he knew that he was the entity that far transcended his old self.

And the new old Sarah was as much a gift to him from herself as anything else. If she had not come back to her human form, what choice would he have had in the long run but to... become infested as well? To tell the truth, this thought had crossed his mind more than once – when, after their victory over Arcturus Mengsk, it was still painfully obvious that they could not be together.

Once again Jim felt his mind drifting away to the places it rather wouldn't, and forcibly brought himself back to the only thing that mattered right now. And let himself get lost in the emotions of the moment.

...She lay half-cloaked in the veil of darkness that poured over her thighs like a tongue of star-laced space, looking all the more seductive for it. Despite having resigned to being human no more, Raynor looked at her with a very down to Earth feeling – the sense of being home, where he belonged, with the woman who was, and forevermore would be, his only friend and family.

And then, he was hit by a single thought that turned the warm and delightful night into the heart of the icy Braxis winter, in which he was just as naked as in reality. A single thought, a single, simple name.

"John".

With that, Jim Raynor delivered a right cross to his own jaw... mentally. How. Could. He. Have. Forgotten. Some savior of the Universe, some combat officer, some... decent human being! In an instant the freezing grip gave way to the heat of untold shame and self-loathing, burning him like a magma pool of Char. Ever since getting his new life, he could have investigated his missing son's fate – it could have been so easy (or so he told himself), but he... just let it slip out of his mind, too wrapped up in mastering his new powers, in the world-saving quest, in...

Sarah was now at his side, still nude – but she felt his sudden onset of emotional distress, and felt no need for decorum. She put a hand on his shoulder, and sent a lightning-quick bolt of inquiry at him. Their unspoken pact held, so she did not want to intrude on his mind – even though he knew that as a natural born psionic of untold power, she could have carved him open like a tin can. Their ascension has levelled the playing field somewhat – after all, he was proven to have had a gift of his own even before that – but she would not infringe on their sense of trust even in these circumstances.

Instead of speaking, he let her in, extending a wordless invitation to his mind. He was grateful to her for having ignored – or not noticed – a tiny speck of ire that he has involuntarily directed at her, like she was somehow responsible. He deeply regretted that thought, knowing that it had no bearing in reality.

She understood at once what he was thinking. He sensed both her emotional warmth, her slight confusion, and... could he say that?.. a little hint of envy. She never had children of her own, and she clearly felt that Jim was luckier to have had a shot at this feeling. At times he was wondering if her attachment to the Zerg Swarm while she was the Queen of Blades had a tinge of warped motherhood instinct about it?

"Lead the way, Jim. I'm going to help you in whichever way I can".

"Lead?" he was momentarily taken aback. "But I... I don't know how, nor even where to start looking".

"Only you can lead in this, and I will follow. Because your emotional response is what alone can drive this along".

She was right, of course. Raynor inhaled deeply, and dove headlong into a trance. For a split second he felt that it was somehow inappropriate to do this stark naked, but when he opened his eyes in his mindscape, he saw himself as he usually was – clad his armour suit again, pistol on the belt and all.

"A little help with the stuff there, soldier", he heard Kerrigan chuckle behind him.

The vista that lay before him looked familiar. It felt to him like an old dream he once had when he was a child – but it had terrified him so much that the memory stuck way into his adult life... and even past his human existence. He was lost in a dark, misty forest – the trees were all bare, as though it had been late autumn or early spring, and there was no light, no path to lead him forward. A thick aura of malevolence was filling the air. Little Jimmy was stumbling around in terror, calling his parents in vain, falling time and again, bruising his hands and knees, and in the end ran full tilt into a tree trunk, the pain knocking him out... and waking him up. His parents rushed into his room, finding him crashed to the floor. His father held him in his arms, and his frantic mother was asking him whether he was all right. They told him that they heard his scream in the night, and then a noise as he fell, thrashing, from his bed. Everything was apparently fine, but the memory was ingrained in his brain for the years to come.

Now, he was no longer that little boy. Besides, he felt the heat of Kerrigan's presence behind him, and he forcibly reminded himself of his new self – and his new quest, which, ironically enough, inverted the premise of that old dream. He raised his left arm and, with an effort of will, conjured a great torch that flared up immediately, illuminating the eerie landscape with its bright, slightly bluish glow.

Of course, there were no trees around, corporeal or otherwise, but he could not drive away the sense of déjà-vu. It spanned not only his childhood experience, but something that had happened much more recently.

"Never thought I'd be going back to the Void. Not so soon, at least", he sighed.

He felt the pull of energy beside him, and turned to see Kerrigan ignite a warp blade. "Just to be on the safe side", she explained. "But you did great, opening that portal. I have to repeat it, you're learning quickly".

Raynor nodded, not at all surprised by the transition. For them in their present state, there was – theoretically – little difference between the material universe and this otherworld. None of them wanted to dally there any longer than necessary, of course, but if the opportunity was presenting itself to use this underside of the Universe to scour the worlds for one human presence – or ascertain the futility of their quest – they were going to use it. At first, Jim was a little surprised that Sarah took his personal hunt so seriously – after all, John was never her own flesh and blood – but then accepted her aid gratefully as another sign of her undying affinity.

He took a second to look at his endeavor from a logical standpoint. There was nothing that suggested anything about his son being alive – apart from a nagging suspicion stemming from the knowledge of how the Ghost program was operating way back to the days of the Confederacy. Since James E. Raynor was considered a "suspicious and unreliable" individual – despite being granted a position of Marshall on a godforsaken fringe world – such a lie might have very plausibly been used to disassociate the family members and prevent the resurgence of any relations, especially in case of a war or uprising when two relatives very well might have found themselves on different sides. That was one of the reasons it took years for him to overcome his fear and apprehension when he was around Ghosts, especially when he was fighting them – it was hard to eradicate an absurd feeling that any enemy Ghost he has killed could've been his son. Absurd it was, because even if he really was alive, he would've still been in his teens, so probably not eligible for field work yet. Has it really been sixteen years? The whirlwind of wars that rocked the Koprulu sector has literally carried Jim Raynor away, leaving little time for anything of personal nature.

The archives of the Confederacy have been lost with the fall of Tarsonis, but what about the people? He knew that some of the trainees have been re-conscripted by the Dominion, probably after a round of neural resocialization, but not necessarily maintaining records – so if anyone has been stripped of his or her identity before that, it was now lost forever. Unless, of course, someone of Raynor's or Kerrigan's stature would be willing to investigate using... unconventional methods.

A logical, reasonable part of his self was telling him that the chances of John surviving all the turmoil that has set in even after the destruction of the Confederacy were slim at best. Jim knew that he was probably in for a really sad and traumatizing outcome, but his iron will, the same that has seen him through all the horrors of the decade-long war and largely earned him his new status, was telling him to soldier on. A final knowledge was better than eternal doubt – especially since he has already managed to pick open his old wound so suddenly; he knew it wasn't going to staunch by itself now.

For the second time he filtered out the world and extended his heightened senses, only now he was already inside the Void. He was frantically picking through the list of the relevant worlds: Tarsonis, where his son's ill-fated final journey had started, Tyrador, Korhal... Each of these was ravaged and re-ravaged by whichever invasion forces saw fit to assault it this week, and that did not inspire confidence. Yet Raynor was compelled to investigate.

Trying Tyrador was worth it, he decided, and so he started picking the direction of the Dominion paradise worlds. He glanced back at Kerrigan who was standing silently behind him, waiting for directions, and almost asked her to open a portal, but then it dawned on him why she had not offered that herself – not for the lack of understanding, but because she wanted him to take this into his own hands. After all, hasn't he been complaining that he felt like he was useless to her? Now was his chance to prove himself – not that she needed it, but it was her method of making him feel like an equally important member of the team. He could not just teleport them around like Kerrigan did, so a little walking was in order – they needed to get to the access point, sort of like a swinging rope from which to jump down to the precise spot on the surface when dropping from an aerial transport. When he beckoned her to go, he subtly felt her approval.

The shifting mists were enveloping the terrain that was more probably a product of their own imagination than the real matter. The torch in Jim's hand and Sarah's faintly glowing blade were the only sources of light. He glanced upwards and saw no stars, no moon, not even the depth of space – just a veil of haze, impenetrable to the naked eye. He could probably pierce it with supernatural senses, though it would have been not only unnecessary, but also draining him of energy. Sustaining the torch was a challenge in itself, and he decided to leave the mysteries of this place in peace... for now. Even though it was supposed to become his adopted home now, he didn't feel like trusting it one bit.

The mental image of Tyrador III was leading Jim ahead – though he dared not claim that it was in fact a valid emotional response, for fear of fooling himself. They walked for quite some time – he could not have said precisely how many minutes or hours have gone by though. While in the real world he felt pretty much indefatigable, here it was much more like his old wartime experience – crawling across the hostile terrain, getting winded from the long trekking with his heavy weaponry and backpacks. He decided that they had to be extra careful, because if this place was the only one where the two malevolent Xel'Naga, Amon and Narud, could have been defeated for real, then what of the new demigods that have come in their stead?

"Wait", he heard Kerrigan say through clenched teeth. He obliged, understanding that there was something serious afoot.

"I sense something ahead. The resonance looks like a stray Void Thrasher. A freakin' unfinished business", she explained.

Void Thrashers were bad, Jim knew this very well. After all, one of these almost did him in during the Void expedition years ago. The image flared up before Jim's mental sight: one of these creatures wading nonchalantly into a literal hailstorm of machine gun fire, smashing a bunker... Before slamming down its monstrous limbs into a row of Marines that climbed out of the rubble, crushing half a dozen soldiers into bloody pulp at once.

There was not a lot of occasions when the seasoned commander James Raynor wanted to close his eyes in a childish impulse to convince himself that it wasn't happening. This was one of these.

Some Zerg rushed to their aid, but with another swing the giant literally splattered a Hydralisk into chunks before grappling with an Ultralisk. Raynor's finger was literally fused to the trigger, but the enemy creature was giving little indication of giving in. Jim cast one quick glance behind, in the direction of the allied battle lines, but the reinforcements were nowhere to be seen. The few surviving Terran soldiers from this battlegroup have retreated to use the Ultralisk as the cover. The creature did not seem to mind – it was doing its best to hold the spawn of the Void at bay. But it could not do nearly enough.

Raynor saw the moment when the final, terrible strike from the Thrasher smashed the Ultralisk's skull in, and the colossal battle beast sunk to the ground in a battered heap of bleeding flesh. For the first time Raynor felt a Zerg's death as acutely as that of his own soldier. Could it have been because there was precisely no one to shield him and the few surviving troopers from the wrath of a Void entity? Or was it because the conflict line was drawn not between the species today, but between the living... and the unliving, for the lack of a better word?

Despite the dire outlook, Raynor and the remaining men defending the ill-fated bunker emplacement did not get to become the fallen heroes that time. It was Artanis who saved the day, but in the heat of the battle, they did not see it coming: a Pylon dropped down from the skies, and a whole platoon of Immortal walkers appeared beside it to rain volley upon volley of energy blasts upon the Void Thrasher before it could reach Raynor and the other survivors. Just seconds later, the horrible creature took its final punishment, exploding in a vortex of energy and fire. Raynor spat on the ground and jabbed the bayonet into the ash that covered it. Only then he felt that his legs were trembling a bit, as Kerrigan's frantic voice cut through to him on the radio. She could see through her minions' eyes until the creatures were all dead, and now she could not know for sure if he was all right.

"I'm fine, Sarah. Better than most of us, anyway", he replied wearily before picking up his rifle and starting to plan for his next move. The battle was far from over.

And now they were going to face one of these creatures on their own. Of course, they were not the same now – in fact, each of them was probably worth a small army. The problem? So was the Thrasher, and thus the question remained – which army of one was going to be better?..

...Unfortunately, things were not going well for Raynor and Kerrigan once they made contact with their enemy. One of the tentacles ended up grabbing Kerrigan and lifting her into the air, even ignoring her warp blade thrust into its base. Her shield was holding, but it could not hold indefinitely, and she was too distracted and hurt to phase out or teleport herself to the open ground. When the tentacle tensed again, Raynor heard her moan in pain...

And then, his vision started to be filled with red haze. This abomination was very nearly strangling his love to death, and he was literally powerless to stop it, only being able to give it what looked like minor annoyance with bullets from his pistol (psionically charged, true, but not terribly effective nevertheless)! Raynor threw caution to the wind and dropped his weapon to the ground, instead charging at his adversary. His power carried him forward... And upward, before he delivered an uppercut to what looked like the creature's deformed snout.

His armored fist was again surrounded by ethereal crimson glow, leaving behind a flaming trail as it crossed the distance to its target. When it slammed into the Void Thrasher's head, Jim could have sworn he heard the skull snap inside, even though the creature was probably comprised of energy, not flesh and bones. Bloodlust filling his mind, Raynor struck again – and his left gauntlet, similarly engulfed in the fire of his wrath, blew out one of the creature's eyes on the right side. The thrasher roared, nearly deafening Raynor, who was literally suspended in midair as he was pummeling the unlife out of his enemy. The third blow caused the monster's head to be yanked backward, and his grip on Kerrigan loosened. She was able to extricate herself from the coils, and just after Jim, overcome with berserk rage, struck for the fourth time, she jumped up high, did an impossible roll in mid-flight, and her warp blade, suddenly extending to double its usual size, cleaved open the back of the Void creature's skull.

The creature's head blew up in a maelstrom of orange fire. The force of the explosion sent Raynor and Kerrigan flying in separate directions, but the thrasher was done for. Bright ethereal flame engulfed its hulking mass in seconds, devouring it with impossible quickness and leaving in its stead only a heap of powder-thin ashes, and the suddenly rising otherworldly wind promptly scattered these remnants across the landscape. Only a circle of burnt out ground – if the conglomerated cinder that passed for soil here could really have been burnt even more – reminded of the frantic battle that took place just seconds ago.

Kerrigan gingerly rose to her feet, and stumbled up to Jim. "Are you all right?" she asked hoarsely.

"Yeah, probably better than you are. Sorry I was so useless again", he stammered.

"What are you talking about, Jim? If it hadn't been for your boxing skills, this fucker would've squeezed the life out of me", she shook her head. It's been awhile since he heard her swear – it served to underline that they were very, very close to their deaths now, despite all their new powers and knowledge. But even they have met a worthy opponent – and their powers were clearly limited, especially since they were trying to stick to their human guise... and thus the weaknesses.

Jim limped closer to Sarah and hugged her, then hastily withdrew as he understood that even she must have been hurting. She laughed, evidently recovering quickly, and then waved her hand, creating a healing sphere around them.

"Let's take a breather for a couple of minutes. This thing wasn't a walk in the park", she said.

"Right. Now I know that I should never wander outside the known Universe without my Void Ray", he quipped back.

With the immediate danger having passed, Jim gathered his pistol from the ground, and the two travelers set on their way again – towards the point in unspace that favoured the transit to Tyrador. After a few minutes Raynor felt the need to ask the question that bothered him.

"I wonder... why didn't you shift to that angel form when you were in danger?"

Kerrigan did not answer for a good half minute – but by the change in her aura Jim saw that she was deep in thought, not ignoring his query. Finally, she turned to him and spoke, her face solemn.

"It's not that simple, Jimmy. Divinity is not a mask that you can put on whenever you want, then take it off and hope to remain unscathed. You can only pull it away with... bloody bits of your face stuck to it. In other words... I've stood on the brink, and I don't' want to fall headlong into that abyss. Getting back is going to be harder and harder every time... just like it is for an addict. So... no, I'm not going to do that, not if I have a choice", she said somberly.


	9. Chapter 9

**IX.**

 _But you must not fear the dark_  
 _I will watch over your sleep_  
 _Until the morning comes_  
 _All wounds have to fade_  
 _I will, I will_  
 _I will watch over your sleep_

 **\- TRISTANIA "Lotus"**

And then, Jim saw him. He rallied his powers to check it again, but in the same instant he felt that it would not be necessary... because there's no way to deceive the heart. Especially if it was the heart of a being that spent a good deal of his existence honing that precious skill of empathy.

It was night in the capital of Tyrador III. Jim felt like slapping himself on the face for never realizing that his son, who he believed lost forever, was – for quite some of the intervening time – so close in space to him. He saw the spartan interior of a training facility, looking from above as though the roof and three levels of the building have become transparent. He saw a steel-framed bunk bed, a thin mattress and the dark-haired head on a pillow covered with a shabby pillowslip. It was a military facility, no doubt about that, and his son was... a cadet of the Ghost academy – he read it in the collective essence of the place, which to him looked as if it exuded a thick vapour of psionic emanations. He shivered when he delved into this cloud, for it was anything but pleasant – too much anguish, loneliness, insanity and death. This place has seen a lot since the Ghost academy was re-established after the rise of the Dominion, and even though the mores have become a bit more relaxed since the latest revolution (that Jim and his associates have helped along), the walls had a long memory. For Jim, it was like stepping inside a musty bog – a bog that was half alive and bubbling with strengthless malevolence that could not kill or even seriously wound... but could and would set him for a fall if given the opportunity.

He did not really care about the possibility of being discovered, however, even though he knew that the Psi-sensitive soldiers on duty would detect an intrusion. Hell, he even realized that the whole facility would be able to sense his arrival, however faintly. But what could they do against him, now a primal spirit of the world? All of his concern was this one person, sleeping in a nondescript solitary room.

Only then he understood that he did not have a plan. Appearing in a poof of smoke and announcing "I am your father!" seemed like the worst possible kind of comedy. Jim gently reached across the barrier between the worlds and placed his phantom hand on the young man's head. The boy was fast asleep, and Raynor knew that he was now softly melting through the line that separated the dream from reality. And he got no response: the young cadet's deepest memory was dead. He could follow a faint trace of his reminiscences before the sequence of words and images abruptly hit a dull grey wall. Jim gathered his strength and hurled himself at this artificial barrier, but bounced back, his whole ghostly body hurting from the impact.

John deeply sighed and frowned in his sleep. Jim withdrew at once, fearing to hurt him somehow.

Raynor looked sadly down at the boy, almost the man, that was once his son, and realized the void that separated them now – the proverbial void that he could not have hoped to bridge. Not only he was now, technically, a force of nature that did not have, nor wished, a place in the human society, but the neural resocialization has burned the few faint strands that could have connected them even after a lifetime spent apart. He knew that nothing he could have said would bring back the boy from Mar Sara there once was – after all, that boy has now lived a different life, and this fact would not have changed even his memory had been left intact.

Kerrigan was nowhere to be seen or felt. Raynor understood that she left him alone so that he could have his personal moment, and he was grateful for that, even though they rarely went out of each other's sight (or, as it would be now, the range of immediate psionic contact). This was his own battle: one that nobody else, not even Sarah, could've helped him with – and not because John was born and lost long before she came along. And the battle was hopeless – he could fight any mortal enemy, even moldy old Gods, but not the curtain of oblivion that cleaved his son's life in two.

Jim – or rather his phantom self – closed his eyes and retreated into his thoughts. And then, he reached out his hand once again, and put it on his son's head, connecting them anew. Just like Kerrigan was singing for the scarred beasts of the ruined world back then, Raynor began to sing wordlessly, phrases edging into his mind from some deep vaults of his memory. He did not quite remember that song, even though there was a feeling that the voice singing these lines should have been a female one – but he was all that was left of the once happy family, because he buried Lydia with his own hands. So he sang a lullaby to their son for the two of them – to the child that miraculously turned out to be alive despite all the horrors and the years of disbelief. That the single most grievous wound still left in Raynor's soul – and losing friends in arms like Tassadar, Zeratul or Fenix was still not comparable to the loss of the one being he ever gave life to – would somehow be healed was a miracle enough for both of them.

 _"There's a maze of nights and days_  
 _You don't fear the time_  
 _Stars and sky define the road_  
 _And they clear our sight_

 _I will be your eyes and ears_  
 _Walk with me tonight_  
 _Somewhere ahead the gate is open_  
 _And the wood's alive"._

He did not try to pierce the veil of the future, like he did when he was calculating Valerian's chances. He was only giving his most heartfelt blessings to the boy that was once his son. Even though he might never know his real name, and never bear it again, Raynor was making sure that this life would never again be threatened to cut short. It was like pouring a chalice of purest life-giving water over the head of the boy, infusing him with vitality and honest happiness – one thing that the Ghosts were probably particularly short on.

 _"Hush my child, now do not weep_  
 _Put your hand in mine_  
 _I've got promises to keep_  
 _I will stand you by_

 _I have given life to you_  
 _Find your strength my child_  
 _There is a magic world awaiting_  
 _Made of light and smiles"._

He was lost in the moment, and his power flowed forth without restraint. Only later he understood that he was about to pour all of himself into John, and then he staggered and reeled, losing mental coherence and blacking out for a moment, before he felt Kerrigan deftly catching him up. Her slender fingers grabbed his hand, giving him back the strength and confidence.

"Careful, soldier. I got ya covered", she whispered in his ear.

Coming back to his senses, he looked around again. Kerrigan, invisible to anyone but himself, was standing next to him in the room. She was studying the still sleeping John with a tender expression and a slight smile that did not often grace her face even during their first stretch of life together. Raynor understood what she was feeling – the boy reminded her not only of Jim, but also of herself, as she had gone through the similar ordeal in her childhood. Even though the Ghost training was not what it once was, it was still anything but a walk in the park. Raynor remembered a mental image that Sarah had shown him once – her cruel former instructor from the Confed Ghost program crucified on the wall, nailed to the concrete like an insect pinned through every limb and throat with knives that she flung at him in vengeful rage – and frowned. No way would he let his son repeat the anguish she – and Jim himself, though it was never comparable – had gone through.

Then she started to sing too – in English this time, and he knew that it was the same song he invoked earlier. After a moment's hesitation, he joined in, and they finished it together.

 _"Shadows soon rise, I will move on_  
 _Leave you behind, your flame is burning_

 _Kiss me goodbye – it's getting late_  
 _I'm still your shield, the world keeps turning"._

She leaned down and planted a kiss on John's forehead, then turned to Jim. He nodded silently.

"It's time to go. At least now I know, and I'll have more strength to continue what we're doing. Maybe I'm not yet ready for transcendence – knowing that I'm doing this not only for everyone, but also for my own descendants, makes it all the more worth it", he said.

"He's going to find his own path in life, that doesn't necessarily involve being a soldier. What I know is that he's never going to be alone, to fear again", she added.

Casting back one last glance, Jim smiled at John before stepping back into their invisible portal, still holding Sarah's hand, and intoned the last three lines of the song..

 _"Words spoken from the other side_  
 _No more pain, no worrying_  
 _Walk on my child"._

"We've found one more missing soldier. My personal missing soldier".

As they set back on their way through the Void, they did not see the facility put on lockdown, nor hear the alarm going on. But when the cadet sergeant X93459C woke up again, the alarm was the least of his concerns. He was immersed in bliss, somehow feeling that something very important – and auspicious for him – had just transpired. Still aglow with unbidden smile, he started pulling on the uniform – quickly but without undue scurrying. When he was leaving his austere room, he looked back for a second and an unexpected thought arose in his head, threatening to upend all of his life.

"What am I doing here? And who am I?"

The image that came from his dream did not seem to vanish among the din of wakefulness: an armored, but unarmed Marine in black, with a skull motif on the visor, extending his hand in a friendly gesture, and a beautiful woman with red hair, clad in strange mesh wear looking vaguely like a Ghost suit but different from it. The Sergeant's eternal regret was that he never saw the soldier's face behind the mask.


	10. Chapter 10

**X.**

 _Golden grounds so absorbing_  
 _When the heat of the sun boils the skin_  
 _We have to stand the test of nature_  
 _To return to where we've been_

 _Hold on my saviour_  
 _Keep my heart in holy dimensions_  
 _Drag me on your back_  
 _For one more day_

 **\- THE GATHERING "Golden Grounds"**

Jim had only vague memories of them exiting Tyrador, so absorbed he was in his thoughts. At first, he regretted not attaching a psionic beacon to John – so that he could've kept track of his life further – but then shrugged that thought away. What he had done was probably enough because... he had his own life. Besides, now he knew where to look...

He did not keep count of the days that elapsed since that memorable rendezvous – they passed by in a warm, pleasant haze. Now, they were standing on the soil of another damaged world – one where a nameless battle between the Protoss and Zerg forces had happened during the first loop of the Great War. Perhaps this planet did not require a complete makeover like some others they had encountered... but something compelled them to pay closer attention.

When they arrived they found more than a few traces of war. Quite a lot of areas were glassed, evidently by the Protoss attempting purification against the Zerg hive clusters. They were passing by hecatombs of dead Zerg bodies – mostly decomposed down to the bones and chitin plating, but still poisoning the air and soil around them, as well as offending the sight in no small measure. At first Jim was inclined to torch them – a natural human reaction to encountering a source of biological taint – but Sarah pointed out that there was a much better way of dealing with these unfortunate graveyards. They wasted no time in speeding up the decomposition and went on.

Ruins of destroyed or abandoned Protoss bases, while not nearly as putrid, were dangerous nonetheless, as there was still unexploded ordnance around, and even the Khaydarin crystals could have been harmful should they fall into the wrong hands. After briefly scanning one such encampment Raynor turned to Kerrigan and made an exaggerated expression of worry.

"Well, looks like we're going to change our jobs and become full-time sappers and disassembly workers this time around. Or should we just call Artanis and tell him to send a team over to salvage this site?"

"Somehow I don't think he's going to waste his time to do this. Last I checked, he and his folks are still busy with the reconstruction of Aiur, and it's gonna take 'em a while", Kerrigan replied.

"Thought so. Well then, let's check this place for anything still active, shall we?"

The ruins of a particularly large Protoss base were spread across a large clearing in the forest of strange quivering trees, abutting a steep mountain slope on one side. The remnants of the outer perimeter were mostly covered in grass and undergrowth, but inside it the vegetation was somehow stunted. Remnants of broken Protoss structures, mostly smashed and charred beyond recognition, were littering the ground. Raynor was scowling as he was surveying the destruction – ever since he first set foot on Aiur years ago, he held within him a deep fascination with the technology and architecture of the Protoss race. That he was now technically a being superior even to the Protoss did little to change that sentiment, so seeing the wondrous structures being so mercilessly razed was hurting him. It was one thing to see the Protoss enemy through the crosshairs and targeting displays on the Hyperion – and he had partaken in quite a few battles against this species – and quite another to walk among the ruins. He knew full well that this outpost has been dead for years and yet largely irrelevant to the current situation of this race – which was far from grave – but for a second Jim felt like an archaeologist exploring the ruins of a hopelessly destroyed civilization that no amount of fascination would ever bring back.

Immersed in his thoughts, he left the scanning to Kerrigan. And when she spoke she could not hide his surprise.

"Imagine this, Jimmy, but there's a live Pylon on that side side. And a few cannons that might still be working".

Indeed, the small corner of the base closest to the mountain looked like it had suffered markedly less damage. What looked like a toppled Pylon half-concealed in the rubble was actually a still working Khaydarin crystal, and around it...

When Raynor crossed an invisible line several Photon Cannons sprang to life around the Pylon, revealing their particle emitters ready to fire. The turret bases were well concealed among the rubble and brush – whether by accident or by design, none of the newcomers could tell. The defensive automatons were still forming a dented but pretty obvious semi-circle around what looked like a half-collapsed entrance to an underground passage.

"Looks like they still have some kind of control post down there. And I feel... that there is someone still inside! I felt their mind brush against mine briefly", Kerrigan exclaimed.

"Say what? How could anyone survive in these ruins for years?"

"I have no idea. None that can be proven without getting inside first, anyway. But this looks like a problem. The field is trying to keep us out, and I'd rather not break in until we've exhausted every other option".

"Then we'll have to do some infiltration work. Just like the old days!"

"You're sounding a little too excited, Jimmy. That worries me a tiny bit".

"You know, I may be getting old or something, but I don't wanna rain destruction and mayhem upon that lair. I just wish we had some lockdown shells to knock out these turrets- What?"

Kerrigan folded her arms and arched one eyebrow, looking at Raynor with a hint of mischievous amusement.

"Of course. How could I forget".

Attacking photon cannons with a pistol sounded like a convoluted method of suicide, but Jim was sure of his marksmanship skills. Less so of his psionic abilities – he was always afraid to somehow mess up horribly and get the result opposite of what he was intending. Now, he was biding his time covered behind a thick tree trunk just out of the cannons' range. He was waiting for Kerrigan to spring a promised "diversion".

She refused to tell him just what she had in mind. "When you see it, you won't be mistaken", she said with a smirk. God, sometimes he felt so thick around her, despite years of the harshest combat experience imaginable and even the new divine blood running in his veins. Whichever was more important, none gave him the ability to understand her fully.

Then, he almost had problems believing what he was seeing. Sarah appeared from behind the bushes, armed with her old C-10 rifle, and walked straight at the turrets. When she came into the range, the Protoss cannons reacted and... He uttered a curse as a photon blast hit her head on – despite his knowledge of her new abilities, he knew that these cannons were no walk in the park. He almost felt the searing pain that she should've experienced but... Something felt off to him as he saw her level her gun and return fire, so he lingered for a moment more.

And then... Another Sarah appeared from the same direction, ran up to the turret and shot at it. And another. And yet another.

He almost laughed out loud. "How could I not know my woman! Illusions are the oldest trick in the book. Diversion indeed".

With that, he sprang to his feet and dashed into the firefight between a squad of illusions and a cluster of confused automatons. Weaving a protective cloak of shadow around himself, he ensured that the turrets considered the fake Ghosts a higher priority target. Once he was in the range, he aimed quickly and fired at the turret, focusing his will around the bullet. Time and space thickened around him, and the projectile left the pistol's barrel shining like a tiny star. The flow of moments slowed again for Raynor as he watched it smashing into the protective shield around the cannon... and exploding in a cloud of energy sparks. The cannon arced and froze in its reloading phase... and did not fire again.

He cast a quick glance to the scene of the battle. Just then, one of the illusions took a fatal blast and disintegrated in a poof of silvery smoke. The others were holding, if only barely, so Jim had very little time to deal with the rest of the towers. He hefted his pistol again and returned into the fray.

When the battle was over, Raynor looked around frantically. All the cannons were deactivated, as though hit with a powerful EMP Pulse each. Jim could not help slightly commending himself for what looked like a clean work: per his calculations, the effective Lockdown was going to last around half an hour – more than enough to get inside, if not to investigate the whole situation. Two surviving illusions of Kerrigan, having apparently exhausted their chain of commands, stood idly a few meters from Raynor. Both looked just like the real deal, and Jim smirked at the ridiculous idea. He sent a mental call to Sarah, urging her to join him, and got a silent affirmation.

Then, suddenly, something unexpected happened again. Both illusions came up to Jim, and each planted a kiss on his cheek simultaneously. But while the touch of the one on the right hand side was like a cool mist, the other felt as the real flesh. Before Jim could process this, the widely grinning Kerrigan waved her hand, and her doppelganger vanished in a cloud of bluish sparks. Jim laughed at his own stupidity.

"Did you really believe I'd be leaving my knight alone to fight a bunch of turrets, only sending these ridiculous shades to back you up?.. Didn't think so", she laughed.

"But... That was a dangerous gambit", he managed to say. "What if they'd started to target you down?"

"Danger has been my middle name for as long as I can remember myself. Yours, too. Besides, I have these plasma shield panties on", she shrugged. Then looked Jim in the eye and winked playfully.

"I gotta try that Mirror Image thing again in a... More private situation".


	11. Chapter 11

**XI.**

 _Steppin' in and out of madness_  
 _Such a dedicated drone_  
 _And though you find me rather tragic_  
 _I'll stay here and feed my pet black hole_

 **\- Alice in Chains "Drone"**

Raynor and Kerrigan crept inside the half-collapsed corridor. Jim was silently thanking his new status for the fact that he didn't have to drag a full loadout on his back – and to be wary of everything as though any moment could be his last. However, he kept telling himself that he should not fall into complacency.

The makeshift Protoss command post has not stood the test of time all that well. Maybe there was unexpected seismic activity that caused the underground passage to cave in in spots, crushing the wall formwork and plating like reeds and cardboard. Either way, Raynor was not inclined to trust this vault's strength one iota, and felt no inclination whatsoever to linger there any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Why couldn't they just be content with building a Nexus?", he huffed while trying to shovel away a particularly tall pile of debris that almost reached the ceiling, nearly blocking the corridor.

"Did you see what happened to their Nexus out there? Turns out they were pretty smart to have moved their main command post underground", Sarah replied from behind his back. "Now come on, let me clear this away for you".

She raised her hands, creating a shimmering sphere around them both – and when they started to walk forward, the glowing edge began pushing dirt and loose rocks away from them. That made their progress faster, if still rather pedestrian. For a few more moments they were following the corridor, noticing the odd cables and bits of machinery sticking out of the walls and heaps of rubble scattered around. Most of the equipment was dead and hopelessly ruined, but there was still a faint – probably unnoticeable to any unskilled observer – trickle of electronic life in the mechanisms that still sustained (if only barely) the work of the Protoss complex.

And when they turned the corner and cautiously entered the improvised control room housing the backup power systems – that were the barely beating heart of this lair – no human knowledge could have prepared them for what they saw inside.

He was waiting. And waiting. And then, some time along the way, he gave up hope entirely.

Enough connection to the main data matrix of the base had remained for him to be able to see what was happening outside; to see – but not to take any action. The final battle that claimed the lives of the base's last defenders was pyrrhic for the Zerg as well – consumed by their hunger and their overriding directives, they pushed into the enemy's defenses even when there was only a handful of them remaining, but... the last echelon of turrets claimed their useless lives just like it had the ones before them. And then, time stood still.

The base's resident Phase Smith who had rigged his battered body for repairs did not come back either. His fate was even worse than that of the warriors – when he ventured outside one night to survey the damage done to the turrets, a Zerg Queen nabbed him with a cluster of Broodling embryos. He fell to the ground in horrible agony, his body disfigured and sprouting monstrous alien organisms, and his soul – with all his precious knowledge – was off to join the Khala.

The Khala... he could not tell what happened but after a while he stopped feeling the thoughts of his brethren. This world was so far off the beaten path that he could not reach out with his own psionic abilities, and the chance of someone ever finding his solitary commandpost-made-grave was plummeting towards zero. Yet the tiny reactor at the heart of his mechanical body was still running, just as it would have in normal circumstances, and the base's crystal energy core still had years of life in it (barring destruction), sustaining the pitiful broken remains of a once proud outpost, with a few data cores and a solitary defensive emplacement. His only hope was the eventual failure of these mechanical organisms – and more than once he hopelessly cursed the reliability of the Protoss technology. Oh, the bitter irony.

One alone in the Universe. Trapped in a prison of his own body for all eternity.

All that changed one day, when the sensors indicated intrusion. By that time, he would have been happy to see another bunch of Zerg crawling up to the final remains of the unfortunate outpost. Happy because they would have brought him freedom.

Instead, his hope faded again as he saw nothing more than a couple of lightly armed Terran soldiers. Probably a scouting party of a mercenary force, pirates or scavengers, or some other similar kind of rabble – pathetic even by Terran standards, he thought. They looked like neither civilian settlers nor members of a serious military force – especially since there were only two of them. They would have never been able to break through the remaining cluster of turrets – long since gone into automatic mode and not accepting commands – even if they had been intent on doing so.

But he was still a Protoss. If his hope for salvation lay in the hands of two hapless Terran scavengers, so be it. He saw them closely now: a Marine in black, medium strength armor, oddly carrying no discernible weapons except a pistol on his belt, and an obviously female, red haired human which looked completely unarmed. In fact, she would have passed for a civilian – if not for the strange mesh wear covering her entire body, reminiscent of a Ghost hostile environment suit but devoid of a protective helmet.

Something felt off for him when he stared at the couple (presuming that the Marine was a male) through the video sensors, a nagging feeling of odd resonance echoing through his mind. So he put off trying to influence them psionically for awhile, instead electing to watch them a little more. He could not hear them speak to each other (even though they apparently did, their mouths visibly moving), but he was increasingly worried. This situation was not right at all.

The duo was exploring the remnants of the base without haste, behaving like consummate professionals. The oddest thing about them was an obvious complete lack of fear or apprehension – which was most surprising for a party of two scouting amid the ruins of a dead Protoss base on a forsaken world. Before they came within contact distance of the photon cannon array, he made up his mind. Concentrating as best he could, he attempted to access the minds of the duo – with every intention of influencing them into coming closer and relieving him of his endless shift.

And he was plunged into a boundless ocean of fire. Before his psionic senses failed altogether and darkness claimed him instead, he could see that the guise of the seemingly normal Terran soldiers was nothing more than a leaf-thin shell concealing the raging stellar flame. The red-haired female was blazing brighter than the highest sun – curiously enough, that sun was still approximating her exterior shape. The black-clad Marine looked like a moon at first, shining with her reflected light, but that radiance was underscored by his own glow of subtly different colour, dimmer but still apparent to the second glance.

His last thoughts before oblivion took him was "Have the Gods really come to end my suffering?"


	12. Chapter 12

**XII.**

 _Take a look around, in the lost and found, help our fellow man_  
 _Screams of agony, lost eternity waiting for the fall_  
 _Final destiny, in an endless sea ride the waves of faith and hope_

 **\- Queensryche "Spore"**

Both Raynor and Kerrigan have stuck around the Protoss for a great deal of time, so they knew the traditions and the technical inclinations of this race face fairly well. So they were not at all surprised – in theory, at least – to find that the mysterious survivor of the Protoss expedition that remained in these ruins for the last few years was... a Dragoon. But it was a Dragoon in name only – he was missing both the the weapon outfit and the mechanical legs that should have carried the central life-support tank. Instead, some of the crystal cables strewn liberally around the command post were connecting the abridged carcass to the still-functioning computer system on one of the walls. It looked like the walker was moved inside for repairs after having sustained a particularly nasty mishap in combat. And then... abandoned? Abandoned when most of the base was overrun by an enemy force?

"What the... I can't imagine how it feels to have been trapped here for so long without no hope of rescue! We've got to help this guy", Jim remarked, intense sense of pity overtaking him. From his interaction with Fenix, he knew that the Dragoon pilots – if that was even the appropriate word for them – were all barely clinging to their lives, and if this one was able to endure literal imprisonment without the ability to move for years... it must have been hell for him.

"Looks like he got burned trying to read our minds. Let's get him back, gently", Sarah noted wryly.

For a split second Jim felt like opining against this, instead preferring to wait for him to recover naturally, but then decided to go along. If they were to help the unfortunate straggler of a godforsaken war, they might as well start by getting him animate, helping him to recover and comparing notes. Jim felt like he could have extracted the information from the dormant mind of the Protoss, but did not even seriously consider doing this – out of civility as well as fear of damaging the hapless Dragoon even further. Instead he chose to gently envelop the Protoss's mind with his own, slowly edging him to the threshold of wakefulness like a lifeguard carrying a survivor of a drowning incident. Kerrigan elected to watch, only offering her advice so that Raynor could practice his psionic skills further.

"Good job, Jimmy. Looks like he's coming around".

"... he's coming around".

He did not know how or why he returned to consciousness, but as soon as he did he realized that he had help in this. For a second he sensed something akin to the Khala's bond he thought lost returning to blanket and support his mind, but the caring presence that was now wrapped around his mental self was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Much more powerful, for one, and so different that he was struggling to find suitable description to what he was feeling. There were strands of recognizable emotions, but they were but grains of sand in a stream of unfamiliar substance flowing in all directions at once. What he did discern was the aura of a noble warrior not unlike himself – as opposed to a scheming Judicator or an earthly Khalai – but at the heart, this being was... a Terran. And at the same time, he was not. A he, because the next thing he realized was the fact that he was being assisted by the same Marine he saw through the base's sensors, as absurd as this had sounded.

Then, his vision abruptly returned – but not as it was before, a trickle of electronic signal fed from the smudged optical sensors to the Dragoon's digital interface. Instead, he was again seeing the interior of the chamber as he would if he had been a healthy Protoss individual with a full set of sensory organs. Next to him he was indeed seeing the same duo of Terrans – he decided to refer to them as such, even though they were clearly something else, until they would've chosen to explain their nature and intentions. So the first question he asked was a natural one in his predicament.

"Who are you?"

The exterior of the damaged Dragoon carcass did not change or move at all, but Jim and Sarah felt the change in the psychic emanation of the crippled Protoss. A mechanical sounding voice resonated in their minds as their charge was broadcasting a telepathic message.

"Who are you?"

This, in fact, was a very good question, so Raynor and Kerrigan exchanged a lightning fast round of mental messages. Jim felt that there was no need to hide their identities – the Dragoon already knew that they were not the usual Terran soldiers, so inventing a cover story would've been awkward at best (and dishonest). Sarah was a little leery of sharing their true names with a Protoss – partly because of her complicated history with that race, partly because she was none too keen on disclosing their continued existence or their new nature. In the end, they agreed on Jim taking the lead and introducing himself first – because his own relations with the Firstborn were, contrary to Kerrigan's, nigh-unambiguously positive. Sarah would attempt to remain in the shadow unless it became necessary to declare her name. There was an added complication of them not knowing which faction of the Protoss their vis-à-vis belonged to, but Jim decided to take that risk. After all, even if he had declared his allegiance to the Conclave – which the Raiders had run afoul of on more than one occasion – there was not much this Protoss could have done against Raynor and Kerrigan... even if he had been a warrior in decent fighting shape.

"En taro Adun. I am Commander James Raynor. Formerly of the Raynor's Raiders, then the Terran Dominion. I used to be an ally of Executor Tassadar, Praetor Fenix and Artanis. However, as you might've guessed, I have become... a little different now. Can you tell us your name?"

"I am Sinar. I am apparently the last survivor of the expeditionary force sent by the Praetor Artanis after the fall of Aiur to scout out the worlds suitable for colonization as an alternative to settling on Shakuras. I took up this mission because I could never get to trust the Nerazim. I know of you, Commander Raynor, because I, too, was defending Aiur in the war against the Overmind, even though I cannot understand how you managed to become what you appear to be now".

"Glad we could help you out, noble Sinar. I'll come to what made me what I am now... eventually. If you are up to talking, we can compare notes before we decide how we can help you out of this mess. I take it you expedition went sideways, seeing as how we've been literally wading through dead Zerg to get here, and your base was overrun. We have not been able to find any other survivors on this planet, unfortunately. What do you know of the things that have happened after that battle?"

"Yes. Everything was the way you said. When we came here it was not long before we found out that the Zerg had already arrived and begun harvesting this world for its resources. We were determined to prevent them from taking it, seeing as how it would have been a great asset to keep, with its climate and natural riches. The fighting lasted months of Aiur's time, and we were whittled down but unable to leave because the Zerg had, by then, blockaded the planet. I cannot understand what made them withdraw even as they had the world in their grasp. And since the homeworld was unable to commit reinforcements or retrieval I assume Aiur's fall. Since you are the first sentient beings I have seen for years, pray tell me of Aiur's fate".

That, thankfully, was a question that Jim had a satisfactory answer to. Sarah seemingly melded into the shadows - at first Raynor thought that she was simply concealing herself. But then Jim felt that she dove into a trance, reaching across the void of space to find Aiur with her psychic senses and share its image with Jim - and, through him, with the Dragoon. After a few seconds of peering through this link the former Raider mentally passed the vision down to Sinar. And felt his vast relief and elation but also... sadness and resignation?

"Well, we'll have to bring you up to speed on this one. The Protoss have reclaimed Aiur. The former Khalai and the Nerazim are all there, they've buried the axe. Even the Purifiers have come around, if you know these guys – everyone but the Tal'darim, because while they were on board for most of the biggest show, most of them still chose to strike out on their own afterwards".

"I... I can scarcely imagine that. It must have taken extraordinary circumstances to get there".

"Not any more extraordinary than the circumstances which led to the Terrans, Protoss and Zerg fighting together. It was that or extinction, given the enemy we were facing, so whoever was smart enough to band together made it through... mostly. The rest, well... ain't around anymore".

There was a heavy pause. Jim could very well relate to the sense of being thrown adrift that Sinar was experiencing. After all, not so long ago the former Marshal was himself living in a black and white world, which was then violently turned upside down, inside out, blown to smithereens and then assembled anew, never to resemble its own former image again. He tried to subtly support Sinar, instilling fortitude in him through the lingering psionic link. Sarah sensed that and shook her head slightly.

"You speak of a common enemy. Who was it, if not the Zerg?"

Kerrigan, feeling that the conversation was approaching delicate matters, silently implored Jim to be as discrete as possible. After a second of hesitation, he decided to go ahead with the factual - if slightly simplified - narrative.

"So, we've come to the juicy details. It was a Xel'Naga long thought dead, who decided to upend the eternal cycle and instead remake the galaxy the way he wanted it. When his old plan of using the Overmind and the Zerg to wipe out everyone else failed, he and his goons decided to initiate the backup plan and just clean the slate, creating the Protoss/Zerg Hybrids instead. But this guy had his ass kicked once and for all... by her", Jim pointed at Kerrigan who had thus far kept silence. Apparently she was not happy at first about being dragged into the spotlight but then Raynor felt that she changed her mind abruptly.

"Well, no point in hiding anything, I guess. I am Sarah Kerrigan, formerly the Queen of Blades. However, I no longer have anything to do with the Zerg", she said dryly, instinctively folding her arms in defense. However, she was a little relieved, Jim sensed, to hear that Sinar was lost in time before the original Queen of Blades had committed the worst treachery and atrocities against the Protoss. There was a solid chance he never even knew about the murder of Aldaris, Fenix and Raszagal, or her betrayal of her erstwhile allies.

Raynor, however, instantly felt the Dragoon tense somewhat. He apparently knew of the Queen of Blades, Jim realized - probably from those who survived Char the first time around, he realized. Kerrigan, too, understood the need to defuse the situation.

"You see, the Overmind was not invading Aiur - or the rest of the sector - by its own volition. It was created by the fallen Xel'Naga to carry out his plan, but it had enough of its own thinking left to understand that it - and the Zerg - were being used. So it took my humanity to make me into a tool of its vengeance - and ultimately the preservation of all life in the galaxy. I sorely regret many things I have done, and deep down, I yearned to return to my humanity - so let me just say that I was given a chance to rise up to the challenge and redeem myself big time. I killed the dark God with my own hands, so to say. Then... I took Jim, who was a bit at a loose end himself, and set out to restore the sector from its miserable, ruined state. So far, we've been doing it well", Kerrigan explained.

There was a long, heavy silence. Sinar was apparently lost in contemplation of what he had just learned; Jim was mentally observing him with some apprehension, seeing - and not liking at all - the direction his thoughts were taking. He was ashamed of involuntarily eavesdropping on the Dragoon's mind, but the Khala-like link he had established earlier to help him out still persisted, so he really had no choice. Finally the old battered Protoss spoke.

"Thank you for finding me, Commander Raynor and Lady Kerrigan, and telling me of the great events that had transpired. Now, I will rest easy knowing that the Protoss race lives and Aiur has been reclaimed. After all, my duty has always been to Aiur. Before you go wherever your new road takes you, I must ask you to give me the last honours, as warriors to a fellow warrior".

That brought Jim up short. He did not need his new divine senses to understand what Sinar was driving at.

"Wait, why is that? Actually, we can get you to Aiur before you can say "Warp prism".

"Don't you understand? I have spent years here, in isolation. I'm old, and my body is broken beyond repair. But this is not the main reason: you've shown me the grand new future... one that I do not fit into. I have hopelessly fallen behind the time, and there is no one to mourn me anyway. Even the Khala is no more, so what is there left for me?"

Raynor felt a lump in his throat. There were thousands of words that he wanted to say, to scream, to rub into the mind of the Dragoon, and... None of them mattered in the end. There were the times for daring rescue missions and impossible feats, and there were the times for parting, for acknowledging the course of life. He felt like a part of him broke off and died with the plight of the old comrade in arms, even though they never even knew each other before this day. Gulping heavily, as though choking on a spiked fruit, Jim turned to Kerrigan. She nodded solemnly.

Sensing their hesitation, Sinar spoke again.

"I was honored to know you, my friends. En taro Adun. Now, please fulfill my request".

Kerrigan came up to the pitiful, broken form of the Dragoon and spread her arms around it, embracing Sinar as if holding a child. Her own shape started to grow and blur, radiating bright light, until Jim was once more looking at the fiery angel that struck him so much in the Void many years ago. But instead of the angry golden glow of a vengeful spirit ready for battle, she was now shining a deep reddish yellow, the hue of autumn leaves in the woods of old Earth, the color of a dim November sunset, the radiance of tranquility and ultimate fulfillment. The glow enveloped both Kerrigan and her charge, becoming unbearably bright for a split second... Before fading back to embers, now deep red like the distant evening afterglow. With all his being, like a draft from a window, Jim felt the exodus of a soul, now gently carried into the afterlife on the wings of a divine wind. Images flooded his vision, kaleidoscoping into a tunnel that ended with an image of a cenotaph inscribed with Sinar's name in Khalani and English. Then he heard Kerrigan's voice, barely recognizable and resonating with power.

"Rest easy, brave warrior. Your watch is over".

Raynor sensed tears come unbidden to his eyes - he felt so human again, probably for the first time since his apotheosis. He was reminded of Fenix so much now. Jim tried to tell himself that the real Xel'Naga don't cry, but it sounded ridiculous. He wasn't one – he was just a soldier of this perpetual war. And a war isn't over until the last dead have been buried, the last missing warrior accounted for... And the last scar healed?

James Raynor drew his pistol again in a silent salute.


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 _There is a path running free_  
 _Quintessential chemistry_  
 _Where the rivers recoil and return_  
 _Fallen stars explode and burn_

 _The branches reach into eternity_  
 _Beyond the verge of stellar time_  
 _The evolving tree, the revolving spree_  
 _Anchored in me means floating free_

 _No time, no space can ever be my hive, my home_  
 _I belong beyond the stellar dome_

 **\- BORKNAGAR "Roots"**

Hierarch Artanis was resigning.

Of course, he had already earned his place in history many times over when he presided over the final military campaign that saw the destruction of Amon, the reclamation of Aiur and the final reunification of the Protoss race. Right after that had transpired, he had his lingering doubts over whether his leadership, so fitting in the times of war, would be good for the times of peace as well – but the first years of reconstruction have put these qualms to rest as well. However, no one – not even the most illustrious leader ever to be in charge of the Protoss race, as he would be undoubtedly described by the future generations – could ride his past achievements forever. Several times he contemplated resignation – to give way to the new leaders born of the End War, then to allow room to the younger generation formed out of the new melting pot of the Protoss culture that had appeared on Aiur. But each time his subjects – scratch that, friends – talked him out of it. Every time he had acquiesced in order not to force his will against what looked like an overwhelming majority – every time until now.

It has been made final. It has been announced to both the citizens of the Protoss Protectorate and to the outside parties. It has been acknowledged, with official messages having arrived from the government of Umoja and Annabelle Swann, the president of the Terran Dominion. And still Artanis felt a bit like this was not real. He was not yet considered old by the Protoss standards, even having served over two hundred and fifty Terran years at the helm of the shining new Protoss state.

He took a short reprieve before he would be addressing the assembled Protoss on the main square of Antioch. Addressing his brethren as the Hierarch for the last time.

He sent away his advisors and even his family, allowing himself a moment of solitary reflection. He remembered, like it was yesterday, the End War – and those who stood by his side in that bloody, desperate conflict. But while most of the Protoss commanders were still alive, the same could not have been said for the Terrans with their short lifespan. Despite his best efforts, he never found out what had befallen Kerrigan and Raynor – and this mystery was still sometimes gnawing at him even all these decades later.

Then he felt the stirring of force in the dark anteroom of his quarters, towards the door that led outside behind his back. He froze for a second, feeling the unknown but radiant power with his entire body like he would be feeling the heat of a blast furnace even with his back to its maw. The power that strangely made his entire being tremble ever so lightly in anticipation of something familiar... and joyous.

The second sense to alert him to the newcomer's presence was the hearing. He heard the footsteps – but it was not the clanking of the Protoss bare feet on the stone, nor the scratching of the Zerg claws against the same floor. No, it was the most out-of-place sound – that of the crude Terran synthileather boots. The firm steps of a strong human in his prime.

And finally, he heard the voice. The very familiar voice of a person who had no business being alive after not one, but several of his kind's life spans had elapsed.

"Hello there, Artanis. Did you think I'd be missing such an important day in the life of an old friend?"

They were talking for what seemed like hours of Aiur's time to Artanis – but when the Hierarch finished and looked at the holographic clepsydra, he was shocked to find that barely any time had elapsed at all. He looked at his unexpected guest – who, in his turn, smiled innocently and raised an eyebrow.

"It's an added bonus to being... what I am now. Frankly, it wasn't an easy thing to master but... I've had the time and a patient teacher. Though it looks like I've been holding you up even with that little trick o' mine", he explained and then spoke again.

"Shall we go outside and get this over with?"

Artanis inclined his head, thinking for a moment of the inevitable flurry of questions and attention his visitor was bound to attract. The latter, as if sensing the Protoss leader's apprehension (though he very well might have read the Hierarch's thoughts), nodded and raised his hand reassuringly.

"I think I can handle that".

With that, his body was enveloped in a faint silvery-blue glow, and then the familiar face of a Terran soldier – and his whole figure – changed in a blink of an eye. Artanis was now looking at a short, stocky Khalai in an artisan's blue robe bearing the insignia of the Sargas tribe. To the Hierarch's eye, his face resembled Tassadar's ever so slightly, and that made him a little sad – but at the same time reassured, as though his old mentor and friend was somehow returned to witness the event that was to come.

"Come on, Artanis, I don't want to steal your spotlight. Not today", he chuckled in a very un-Protoss manner and beckoned towards the archway that led outside, into the streets of Antioch.

Artanis nodded, not wanting to let the moment go but at the same time stopping himself from thinking of any more questions. However, he did not know how long this guest from the past would've been staying, so he felt compelled to ask one last thing he absolutely needed to know.

"So... what are you planning to do now, and where are you going from here?"

The being wearing the face of a Protoss Khalai paused for a few seconds and stroked his chin in a very Terran gesture of contemplation.

"To tell you the truth... I don't know. We've almost finished the mission we put upon ourselves after we met again, so we'll be probably leaving the sector to explore the Universe further – and do what we've learnt to do so well for anyone and anyplace else that might need it. But we're never going to forget our home and those we leave behind. Maybe some day we will return – I just don't know what and whom we're going to find here".


End file.
